Resisting the Boss: Office Suspense Romance (Dirty Hot Resistance Series Book 4)

  Resisting the Boss

  Office Suspense Romance

  Emelia Blair

  Copyright © 2020 by Emelia Blair

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Jace

  2. Halley

  3. Jace

  4. Halley

  5. Jace

  6. Halley

  7. Jace

  8. Halley

  9. Jace

  10. Halley

  11. Jace

  12. Halley

  13. Jace

  14. Halley

  15. Jace

  16. Halley

  Epilogue

  1

  Jace

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I growl loudly, slamming my fingers on the laptop keyboard.

  “You break that one and the company won’t pay for the repairs,” a dry voice comments.

  I glare over at the woman sitting on the two-seater, her feet resting on the glass table, an iPad in her hands as she studies something on it.

  Her dark brown eyes and the shape of them are the only indication that we’re related. Her hair, which is ashen in color, completely contrasts my own, which is dark and slicked back.

  “Shut up, Kendall,” I grumble, and she raises a brow.

  “You shut up,” my half-sister responds, middle finger in the air. “And I’m only repeating what Lana said. She told the same thing to Caleb. He didn’t tell her to shut up.”

  I look up from the email my client just sent me and frown. “That’s because your husband owns the whole damn company. I think Lana is the only one aside from Lucas and Oliver who has the balls to go toe to toe with that psycho you married.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell Caleb that.” Kendall sneers. “The psycho part, that is.”

  When I glare at her, she gives me an innocent smile, and then adds, “Lana’s the head of HR. Locking horns with Caleb comes with the job description.” She let out a sigh. “I wonder when she’ll go on maternity leave, though. It’ll be so weird without her barging in to yell at Caleb about something once a day.”

  Lana’s pregnancy has had her husband, Oliver, frantic with excitement. Having never seen the latter look so worked up over something, I often find myself baffled when I see the former Crisis CEO fussing over his wife, who has started locking the door anytime he’s in the building.

  I resume typing and scowl. “Why are you even in my office? Where’s Caleb?”

  “He kicked me out; said I was too distracting.”

  The pleased smirk on her lips makes me think that I’m better off not pursuing this topic.

  The ding from my laptop has me squinting to see the screen as I grope on the desk for my glasses. Finding them, I put them on and read the email that’s arrived from my own HOD and I feel my blood pressure rising, as I hiss, darkly. “I’m going to murder that son of a bitch.”

  This time when Kendall looks up at me, there is no teasing in her expression, her lips are pursed. “Hashem?”

  I have the urge to smash my laptop as fury ignites my blood. Breathing to ten, I calm myself down before daring to speak, “He’s rejected all the applicants for the programming position again. This is the third goddamn batch.” My voice is carefully controlled and tight. I’ve been looking for a technician to provide added support on some of the projects I’ve been working on. Starr Industries is a major player in the consulting market. Caleb Starr, Kendall’s husband, and my brother-in-law, has his eggs in numerous baskets and Starr Industries is one of the latest companies he’s acquired and rebranded.

  Before him, the company was run by a management that had been intent on sinking the firm by paying themselves excessive perks. The CEO had been complicit in most of this, and while he had been removed, a lot of his associates remained. When Oliver had been appointed as the Crisis CEO, he had been tasked with fixing the company up. While the Britisher had done a stellar job of removing most of the filth from the company, there were quite a few individuals that hadn’t been removed and that included my Head of Department.

  Hashem has been at the receiving end of many of the favors doled out by the previous CEO and he had pushed back my long overdue promotion as a punishment for when I had refused to window dress the numbers to clients.

  My mother had raised me to be honest in my dealings. She had been a harsh woman who had taught me never to compromise on my integrity. That had been important to her, maybe because she had compromised her own by getting involved with a married man, Kendall’s father.

  So, when Hashem had tried to convince me to smudge numbers and falsify information, and I had refused, he had refused to let me get promoted. It was only when Oliver had stepped in and seen my work, that he had promoted me. Now, while I was amongst the top senior management in my department, I was still under Hashem’s thumb. He had constantly denied my request for a technician, a programming expert and when Caleb had gotten involved when I had threatened to quit, then Hashem had rejected any and every applicant on the stupidest of reasons.

  I hear Kendall pad over and look over my shoulder to read the email and she swears under her breath before looking to me, a fierce expression in her eyes. “Want me to get him fired?”

  The offer is so sincere, her body language protective, and it warms me from the inside for a few moments.

  When I had discovered Kendall’s existence and I had tracked her down, I had been hesitant, not knowing how she would react to finding out that we were half-siblings.

  Her delight in the fact that she had family, made me feel welcomed.

  Caleb had offered me a higher-level position in the company at some point but I had refused. I had understood maybe he had done it for Kendall or Kendall had asked him to. It was common knowledge the icy hearted CEO couldn’t deny his childhood love anything.

  I’ve never had anything like a childhood sweetheart or any woman I could claim to have loved. I’ve always been very career oriented, my whole life focused on graduating from school, working one job after another.

  I’ve garnered a name for myself as a financial advisor, something else which irks my supervisor since potential clients ask for me. I’ve been given offers from other companies, at better salaries and more perks. I would have said yes to all of them and I had been on the brink of saying yes, till I had found Kendall here. Now, the prospect of working elsewhere isn’t that appealing to me.

  Over here, I get to see my sister every day. She comes, she nags me and while I complain loudly, I secretly enjoy it. After my mother’s death, the loneliness had been suffocating. Kendall stepped in and her brand of love is something new but it makes me happy. Even on the worst of days, she manages to make it better.

  We both seem to know that we’ve found a rare and precious gift in each other and we’re determined to protect it at all costs.

  Besides, this job isn’t all bad.

  I get to do what I love and I’m very good at it. I have solid relationships with clients and aside from that, I usually avoid Hashem unless it’s for things like these. I’ve honestly never met a stupider fool than my Head. Despite knowing that the CEO is my brother-in-law, the man still lets his petty vendetta influence him.

  “I’ll figure something out,” I say, gruffly, nudging Kendall’s elbow off my shoulde
r. “Get off me.”

  She digs her elbow into my shoulder in retaliation, making me wince. As she straightens up, she pats me on the head. “You know Caleb wouldn’t mind replacing Hashem with you in a heartbeat.”

  “I want to earn that position,” I tell her, dodging her hand with a scowl, my hands going to smooth my hair back down from where she’s deliberately messed up my style. “And will you please stop messing with my hair?”

  She, very cheerfully, reaches out to grab my hair in a fist hold and ruins my well-maintained strands. “Do you use a bottle a day?”

  I bat away her insistent hands, whining, “Stop it!” This is the only woman in front of whom I resort to such childlike behavior.

  She grabs my neck in a chokehold, maliciously. “Stop using so much hair product.” She doesn’t stop until all my hair is ruined.

  I kick her out, threatening to tell Lana that she’s not letting me work.

  It’s only an hour later when I realize she’d completely distracted me from my worries. However, this isn’t an issue I can avoid any longer, so I make my way to Hashem’s office.

  Before my promotion, I was forced into a tiny cramped office, no better than the janitor’s closet. But times change and now, my office is larger, more comfortable and despite Kendall’s half-hearted denials, I know she had something to do with this because I only got this new office a while back. Hashem was content to let me work out of that box.

  Hashem is a middle-aged man who’s easy on the eyes but he has a smarmy attitude about him that is a human repellent. I honestly don’t know how he managed to hold on to this job for this long.

  He’s not alone in his office.

  Raymond Silverton, one of the older senior members, is sitting with him. Soft blue eyes and greying hair, Raymond is a soft-natured man and I’ve always liked him. He’s a widower and he rarely talks about his family. When I initially started working at this company, he had been my mentor.

  I nod to him in greeting, before turning to Hashem. “You can’t keep rejecting applicants. At this rate, I’ll lose both the Bernard account and the Damson account!”

  Hashem smirks, leaning back in his chair. “That’s unfortunate. Instead of making excuses, why don’t you work harder to hold on to those clients?”

  I grit my teeth. “You were told to hire a Programming Officer for me! You were even given a budget for it.”

  Hashem blinks. “Is that what the addition to the budget was for? Since I’m the head of this department, I made the executive decision to allocate that amount to hiring an assistant for myself; my workload has increased over the past few months.”

  “You did what?” I ask, dangerously.

  “I hired an assistant for myself.” He shrugs, a smug smile playing on his lips. “I’m afraid the department simply does not have enough to hire a Programming Officer for you.”

  Rage fills me and I clench my fists.

  Now Hashem narrows his eyes at me, “What? You want to go snitch to the CEO again?”

  His words make me want to smash his face into the table. However, I restrain myself and open my mouth. But before I can say anything, Raymond interrupts, “Are you looking for one of those computer people, Jace?” He sounds hesitant.

  I turn my head to look at him. “Do you know somebody?”

  “We don’t have the budget, even if he does!” Hashem says, loudly.

  Raymond shoots him a look that is laced with concern, before turning to look at me. “That’s the thing. I don’t think you’ll have to pay her. My niece did her Masters in some programming thing and she does a lot of that freelance thing that all the youngsters are into these days. But she can’t put that on her résumé. I could get her to agree to an unpaid internship, if you want.”

  Hiring a freelancer is not something I enjoy because they’re usually very unreliable and I have no idea about this girl’s skill. However, one look at Hashem’s irritated face has me saying, “Tell her to come by on Monday. I’ll see if I can put her to work. I’ll want to test her skills first, of course.”

  Hashem is on his feet, furious. “You can’t clear an intern into my department without my consent.”

  My lips twist into a sneer. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear it with the CEO and HR.”

  The HOD’s face gets red with anger.

  I march out, feeling both satisfaction and annoyance. I hope this girl is as good as Raymond thinks she is. Otherwise, my ass is on the line.

  It’s already late, and I decide to head home.

  My apartment is a ten-minute drive from where I work and I muse whether I’ll have time to throw in some laundry.

  My complex is an upscale building with a gym and laundromat provided.

  I park my bike in the garage and then head over to the elevator. Just as the doors are about to close behind me, I hear a woman cry out, “Hold the door!”

  Without thinking, I use my foot to block the door and the doors automatically open.

  A short red-haired girl darts in, holding a large cardboard box that is two sizes too big for her.

  I step aside to give her space and she sinks onto the floor, panting. “Oh God. I was sure that I wouldn’t make it.”

  I glance down at her, uneasily, and my eyes widen slightly at her attire. She’s clad in fuzzy slippers, neon pink shorts that are so tiny that they’re practically riding up her ass and a yellow tank top that’s so tight, it looks like it’s painted on.

  I blush in discomfort and stick my hands in the pockets of my pants, looking away. But the fact that she’s not moved or pressed any buttons, makes me a little concerned, “Which floor are you on?”

  She glances up at me, suspicion in her gaze. “Why do you want to know? Are you one of those perverts?”

  Without letting me chime in to my horror, she continues, her eyes wide now, “My uncle warned me about people like you!”

  I gape at her. “What, no! I was going to press the button for you!”

  When she continues staring at me as if I’m some piece of slime, I say snidely, “I was just trying to be helpful! Suit yourself.” With a derisive sniff, I hear the bell go off as my floor arrives, and without a second thought, I march out, insulted beyond measure.

  I hear the doors close behind me on the teenager, who looks like she belongs at a club, and I scurry to my own apartment, incensed at the sheer rudeness.

  Locking the door behind me, I stare at myself in the hallway mirror for a full minute, taking in my rich brown eyes, my slicked back hair and my sharp cheekbones, everything giving me a stern appearance. My frame is lean and slightly muscular from my daily gym routine.

  Peering at myself, I tilt my head at a couple of angles before I snort, disdainfully.

  There is no way I look like a pervert.

  Taking off my tie, I toss it aside and make my way into the kitchen to see if there are any leftovers from Tracy’s lasagna.

  All thoughts of the girl are gone from my mind as I happily warm up the food.

  Kendall’s best friend, Tracy, is an angel, I think to myself. I have lived on takeout since Mom passed away but ever since I met Tracy, I’ve never gone a day without a home-cooked meal. Her husband, Duke, Caleb’s friend, helped her set up a catering business a few months ago but I managed to convince her to provide me a week’s worth of frozen food at least four times a month.

  Stuffing my face till I can’t eat another bite, I give the remaining food a rueful look before putting it back in the container.

  Dragging myself to bed, I put all thoughts of laundry out of my head and wonder whether I will be able to make use of Raymond’s niece.

  I usually enjoy the weekend, but I find myself staring gloomily at the pile of dirty laundry that I have to take down to the basement.

  Sighing, I shrug out of my shirt, and into my gym gear.

  Making my way to the laundromat, I throw in my clothes for half an hour and head to the gym on the top floor.

  It’s usually empty, so I’m surprised to see a woman getting
off the treadmill.

  Her red hair should be a dead giveaway but I fail in recognizing her till she turns around and lets out a shocked sound. “You!”

  The horror in her voice startles me, making me step back in alarm. “Y-Yes?”

  She puts her hands on her hips.

  I can’t help but notice the way her top stretches across her generous breasts and I force my eyes to her face. What is with this woman and her lack of normal clothes?

  “Are you following me?” She demands.

  I gape at her.

  “Well?”

  Entitled little shit. I stare down my nose at her, mustering my most arrogant look. “I don’t have time to run around following little girls.”

  Her face grows red, her light blue eyes conveying outrage. “I am not a little girl!”

  Ignoring her, I walk past her, my gym bag slung over my shoulder.

  She trails after me, exclaiming, indignantly, “I’ll have you know that I’m twenty-two years old.”

  This comes as a surprise to me, not that I show it on my face. She looks like she’s barely out of her teens!

  I make my way to the locker room and turn around to see her standing right there, a scowl on her face.

  Annoyed, I slam the door in her face.

  I hear her huffing something outside and I feel satisfaction at somehow managing to get the last word.

  Stuffing my wallet into the locker along with my shoes, I change into my workout shoes, and step out, only to find that the girl is now using the elliptical. She looks my way and snorts before flipping her short hair over her shoulder.

  What a little brat!

  Fuming, I step on the treadmill, deliberately putting my back to her. She’s just a rude little runt. I shouldn’t let her get to me like this. Pervert, my ass! Putting on my headphones, I ignore her existence.