Page 42 of Hating the Boss

I stopped in my tracks. Swallowing hard, I did as he said before turning to him. He sat at his desk with his hands pressed together, his brow furrowed slightly under that thick head of dark hair. I imagined running my fingers through it.

Knock it off.

I placed the papers on his desk, unable to ignore the way his cologne seeped into me like a warm hug. I took a step back.

“It’s all there. Including the menu for Mr. Chow’s. Can never have enough takeout menus, right?” I chided.

He didn’t seem to find my little joke funny. Instead, his jaw tensed slightly, making it even more chiseled. I didn’t know that was possible.

“Take a seat,” he said firmly, gesturing to the armchair in front of me.

I sat down, pulling at the hem of my dress as it hitched up my thighs. I swore his gaze lingered there for a moment before looking back at me. The gray in his eyes looked like a storm about to break.

Brad looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking.

“How did you feel meeting my father?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Y-your father?” I asked confused.

When the hell did I meet his father?

“At the club…”

Then it dawned on me. That older man at the club, the same one I had just passed downstairs. That was Brad’s father? Why hadn’t he told me that?

“Oh, right. What was his name again?” I asked.

“William.”

“Right. I didn’t realize that was your father. You didn’t say anything…”

Brad stayed quiet, studying my face like he was looking for an answer I wasn’t sure I had for him.

“He was very nice,” I said.

It was true. In the brief meeting we exchanged, he was warm and friendly. Thinking back, I could see Brad in him. In his strong features. He also seemed like the type of man who took work very seriously, just like Brad.

Brad nodded, turning his chair slightly to look out the window, deep in thought.

“He wants me to settle down,” he said quietly. “Insists on it, actually.”

I sat there fidgeting, straining to hear the thoughts he was verbalizing. I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this.

“Parents can be pushy,” I said.

At least, I remembered my mother being that way. My heart stung at the memory of her.

“It’s not just that,” he said, sighing. He turned his chair back to face me. “The company is relying on me to.”

“I don’t understand,” I said with a shake of my head.

“Our biggest client, Music Now, is threatening to pull out. The owner is some old-fashioned looney bird who doesn’t seem to trust me as head of Stellar Industries because I’m not the ‘family man’ he would like me to be.”

“That’s a little ridiculous,” I scoffed.

“My father is the same way,” he said. “And if I don’t do what is expected of me, I could lose my stake in the company.”

“But you’re CEO…”