Teaching The Boss

Chapter Ten

"Please come into my office."

The deep, confident voice coming through the phone receiver sent chills down April's spine. "Um, what is this about, Mr. Hunt?"

"I've told you to call me Donald. And I'd prefer to discuss this in person."

First-name basis was harder when she knew she'd given insider information to a competitor. Not that Donald and Sam were in the same business per se, but they were definitely in some sort of competition. "I'll be right up, si—Donald."

Without a word, he hung up, and April was left to stare at the receiver as though it had just grown three heads. It probably wasn't anything. She'd sent the cryptic text to Sam just over a week ago and hadn't heard a thing from either of them.

Then again, she could count on one hand how many times Donald Hunt had called her into his office. Besides the wildly inappropriate visit to her apartment when she'd first met the real estate mogul, he'd kept his distance, not having much time to deal with an entry-level hire.

After the much too short for April's nerves elevator ride, she moved closer and closer to the ominous, massive office. Her heart beat faster, and she did her best to keep any sign of fear from playing across her face.

She crossed over the threshold and let out a breath. At least there were no police surrounding Donald. He looked up from his computer and smiled up at her.

The smile did a bit to calm her nerves, but she was far from relaxed. "You called?"

"Thanks for coming up so quick, April."

That was fast? Maybe she should've stalled longer...

"Shut the door, if you don't mind. I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

Oh shit. Obediently, April pushed the heavy wood door shut and turned back to Donald. "Should I be worried, sir?"

"We're back to 'sir' again?"

"Instinct. Sorry, Donald." Yeah, "Donald" just didn't sound natural coming out of her lips. Did he really think they were on a first-name basis? Well, he could call her whatever the hell he wanted, but when it came to her, she'd feel more comfortable with "sir" or "Your Majesty" or "Your Richness."

He chuckled a bit. "I don't know when I became so scary to everyone around here."

You became scarier the second I betrayed you to your son. But only because you were maybe/possibly going to betray him. So you totally deserved that betrayal.

"The price of success, I suppose," she muttered. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Jack Mason is having a big shindig to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of his business opening doors. Do you know what Jack does?"

April searched her memory. Why did that name sound so familiar? Then she remembered. "He makes appliances. Ovens, refrigerators, microwaves. That kind of stuff, right?"

"Exactly. Sam has done business with him for a number of years."

At the mention of Sam, April felt the blood rush from her face. "I don't want to get in the middle—"

"Just hear me out," said Donald. "This is one of those few society events where Sam and I will be in the same room together for an extended period of time, and I have some very important news to discuss with him."

She took a deep gulp. "News?"

"The exact nature of it is confidential, but he's not going to be happy."

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"You have a calming effect on him. I think you should come with me to the party just in case he needs a shoulder to lean on."

April crossed her arms over her chest. "You mean in case he tries to make a scene?" Besides, if he thought she had a calming effect on Sam, he was getting faulty intel.

He grimaced. "At this point, I feel a scene is unavoidable."

"If you know you're going to hurt him and don't care, why even bother asking me to pick up the pieces?"

"On the contrary," he said. "Everything I do is because I care. Sam and I have a very complex and sordid history. I don't expect you to understand all the intricacies involved."

April scoffed.

"That's not an insult to your intelligence. Merely a nod to your ignorance of the situation at hand. Nonetheless, this event is black tie, floor-length dress formal attire. I've booked you a room for a night of the party. Rest assured it's far away from mine."

"Don't want people getting the wrong idea?"

"That...and my room is much, much nicer. Don't worry. You still have a suite."

"I don't feel comfortable with this, Donald."

"I never expected it to make you comfortable. However, according to my sources, you haven't hesitated to make yourself uncomfortable for Sam in the past."

Her eyes widened for a moment, before she realized he wasn't talking about the kiss she'd shared with his son. He referenced all the late nights and frantic phone calls she'd made on behalf of some important meeting or reservation Sam needed. Even so, she still wasn't happy about this. "You're using me. I know it and you don't even care that I know. I won't forget this." She turned away. She couldn't listen to any more of his confusing justifications. He could take his evil plot and shove it up his ass.

"April," he called as she reached the door.

She didn't turn, but she did stop.

"He's going to need you."

She bit back the insults she wanted to hurl at the most powerful man in New York City. Sam had been right when he'd warned her off, and she'd brushed him off like nothing more than a bug.

Now they were both going to pay.