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“It’s my job to interfere,” she said, pleasantly. “If I don’t, I’m not much more than a glorified paperweight.”
“You’re a schoolgirl,” Alex scowled.
“I’m a lot older than that,” Sophie replied, keeping her composure.
“A naughty schoolgirl,” he corrected, just as sternly.
A slow smile spread over her face, and then, thoroughly unexpectedly, over his. He had intended to scold this young subordinate who had overstepped her boundaries, not make a connection, but there was no denying the spark between them. Usually when he spoke that way, women stammered and blushed, or if they were particularly temperamental, rolled their eyes. She didn’t have either of those reactions. There was a knowing in what should have been her innocent gaze. It was not the arch seductiveness of a temptress of a woman, but the wicked ease of a female brat. She quirked her brow back at him ever so slightly, a gesture which could have been plausibly denied, but which confirmed his initial suspicions. She was trouble.
He felt his palm itch with the desire to take this girl over his thighs for a good, long spanking. It was one of his quirks that he enjoyed punishing women. It was even more enjoyable when they deserved it, though that wasn’t necessarily a prerequisite.
Alex pushed his baser desires aside. This was business, and it had to take priority. This girl was far too innocent and inexperienced for the position she held. And, well, if he was pushed, she was too cute for it as well. He had an estranged daughter not that much younger than her, and an ex-wife who had once been the complete opposite of her. Alex found himself feeling protective toward the little troublemaking brat who should have known better than to hold his gaze in that arrogant way.
“I will see you in my office before you go home tonight,” he told her, making it an order.
“Actually, you’ll see me now," she replied. “Carlyle’s taking me to the executive meeting.”
She called him Carlyle, like a friend. Not Mr. Carlyle, like a respectful subordinate ought to.
“Carlyle…” Alex shook his head. That was not a good idea. The fewer people caught up in Christo’s madness, the better.
“She knows the outline,” Carlyle replied. “She’s useful.”
“It’s practically her first day,” Alex objected.
“Actually, I’ve been here for three months. It’s just the first day you’ve happened to notice me… sir.”
She dropped the sir on the end to belatedly attempt to soften the sass of the sentence. It didn’t work.
Sophie’s palms were sweating as she held Alex Roth’s glare. He was mad. She could feel his irritation rolling off him like a wall of super stern energy. This was the sort of reaction she’d expected from Mr. Carlyle when the entire mall debacle had gone down, but Carlyle, as he’d told her to call him, was too chill to sit there the way Alex Roth did, smoldering at her in that vigorous, almost animal way.
Things had only gotten worse since the mall situation. Now there were global shipping routes involved. From the shore to the oceans, she was way out of her depth. She knew it, and Alex seemed to know it too.
Fuck.
Was he going to expose her? Fire her? She wouldn’t put it past him. She wouldn’t blame him either.
All she could do was sit there and hope her composure kept Alex at bay. He wasn’t technically her boss, but that wasn’t going to stop him from acting like it. He’d just summoned her to his office later as if he owned her. Carlyle had raised no objection to that, so she guessed she was going.
“I believe we are all about to be late for that meeting," she said pertly, using the armor of politeness to keep the COO’s energy at bay.
Truth was, she was simultaneously flustered and a little insulted. Alex didn’t seem to remember their first encounter outside Apex. Then again, she’d done a lot of superficial work on herself. She’d gotten a more professional haircut. She’d found a suit that made her feel powerful and feminine. Those two things helped far more than they should have, given she knew, deep down, that she hadn’t actually gotten any better at her job.
Chapter 6
“Hey, suckers,” Christo announced his presence as obnoxiously as ever.
Professionalism meant nothing to the man who slung his briefcase onto the old growth oak table like a fisherman landing a catch. How he had ever become CEO of Apex was a mystery to the casual observer, but to anybody who knew anything, the answer was simple: nepotism.
Much like Alex, he had no need of employment. Both of them were billionaires many times over. Their positions at Apex allowed them to exert power more effectively. Income was irrelevant, and the job even more so.
Christo Monteverdi was from a long line of very long lines. He had the kind of old money that never died. His ancestors had been Italian royalty. Now, he was American royalty. Being CEO of Apex was one of many positions he held across the country. It was said in some circles that Christo could crash the NASDAQ on a whim if he wanted. It was said in other, more private circles, that he did so regularly for personal gain. That was illegal, but so were most of the things Christo did.
