Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Naughty Boss.
SAM...THE BOSS
I stepped off the elevator the following Monday morning, noticing that the lights were still on in the boardroom.
Confused, I headed over to shut them off, but I saw Mercedes sitting alone at the end of the table. She was flanked by several boxes of files and holding one of my best designer pens between her teeth.
I stared at her as she flipped through her notebook, remembering how I'd once attempted to find numerous ways to get rid of her when she'd first started.
God only knew how I tried to get her to quit.
It was never personal, and never because she was awful. She was actually the smartest woman I'd ever met and the best executive assistant I'd ever hired.
But her unfortunate flaw was being sexy as fuck.
Beyond sexy as fuck!
She was absolutely stunning!
Her pretty brown eyes perfectly complemented her lovely features, her long hair and her puffy totally kissable lips.
Her light raspy laughter was sexy enough to catch any man's attention, and she possessed a never-ending wardrobe of curve-fitting dresses that I actually looked forward to seeing everyday.
For months, I'd wanted to see her smart ass mouth wrapped tightly around my dick. And I'd wanted to bend her over my desk and fill her vagina with my shaft, while I spanked that sweet ass of hers.
But I knew better than to ever attempt to make that fantasy a reality.
I must admit, there were a few times when I'd been careless...when I'd let my gazes linger on her for a little too long...or when she wore a particular shade of dress that left little to the imagination...
I bit my lip to stifle a groan that was halfway up my throat. Then I made a slight adjustment to my pants and softly whispered to my wayward dick,
"Behave."
After that, I cleared my throat, to which she suddenly looked up and noticed me staring from the doorway.
Her cheeks darkened and she cleared her throat.
"May I help you with something, Mr. Evans?"
"Yes you can. I don't recall giving your permission to come onto my floor today."
"That's because you didn't." She shrugged. "So?"
"So, unless you personally hear me say the words, 'Step into my office,' or 'Yes, you have permission to sit in my boardroom and do your work' your ass is currently trespassing."
"Oh, really?" She shrugged again. Then she took out her cell phone and smiled, hitting record on that goddamn conversation app. "Could you kindly repeat what you were just saying, Mr. Evans? That is...Samuel Evans of Evans Publishing? Particularly that 'Your ass is trespassing' line..."
I shook my head, even as I took in the smug look on her pretty face. The woman definitely deserved a spanking!
And I wanted to give it to her so fucking bad...
Instead, I closed the door and immediately walked to my own office.
The second I hit the lights, Artie turned around from the beverage cabinet and held up a bottle of champagne.
"Congratulations to you!"
He uncorked it, letting the frothy foam drip onto the carpet.
"What's the occasion?" I asked. I took off my jacket and sat behind my desk.
"Three things, actually." He poured two glasses and walked over, handing me one. "For one, the most obvious, you've had the best year for any publisher in the country."
True. I nodded at that.
"Two, you've gone an entire year without appearing on the cover of a tabloid or getting involved in any sex scandals."
"That shouldn't be an accomplishment, Artie."
"It is when it comes to you. Trust me."
I tried to think of the third thing and beat him to it, but I didn't have a clue as to what it could be.
"And three..." he said. "You've seemingly done the impossible. You've kept the same executive assistant for over a year. You can thank me a million times later for finding Mercedes Jones."
I tossed back my drink at the sound of her name and rolled my eyes. I was considering walking right back into that boardroom and telling her to bend over the chair.
Or maybe I should screw on her the table. No...the floor...
"Um. Hello?" Artie waved his hand in front of my face. "Are you there, Evans?"
"My apologies. What were you saying?"
"I was saying that it's quite ironic that the one time you find an assistant who lasts a year, she decides to leave." He laughed. "Crazy, right? I'll make sure we find someone half as good when she leaves."
"What? What do you mean when she leaves?"
He tossed back his drink.
"She put me down as a reference for a few jobs she's received interviews for and they've left voicemails requesting me to call and answer a few of their questions." He pulled out his phone. "Speaking of which, I need to schedule those at some point tomorrow."
"Which companies?" I demanded.
My blood was suddenly boiling.
"The usual thieves of great employees." He laughed again. "Apple, Microsoft and Amazon."
"And why the hell didn't she..." I changed my tone. "Why didn't she use me for a reference?"
Or even fucking tell me she was leaving?
He shrugged.
"Probably assumed you're busy enough and you wouldn't have time to call the people back. Or, maybe she rightfully assumed that I'm the better choice."
He changed the subject and started talking about our next quarter projections, but I could only halfway listen.
I was furious at the audacity of Mercedes to even think about leaving.
I was paying her more than double what I paid any of my previously EAs...deservedly so and her benefits package was specifically tailored for her.
The day I found out she loved and preferred the hardback version of novels, I added a mandate to her contract that she receive five hundred dollars' worth of hardback books per month from any bookstore she wanted.
When I found out she didn't have her own car and was taking a cab back and forth to work and conferences, I added a mandate to her contract that gave her unlimited access to her own private town car and driver.
No other executive assistant in the building had ever had his or her own town car. And I'd made sure no one else in the company knew about this arrangement. Not even Artie.
And the day I found out she'd actually wanted to be a professional assistant and eventually rise to the ranks of CEO of a company someday, I thought I'd found a highly potential business partner for the future.
But now, I wasn't so sure.
Add that to the fact that she wouldn't even tell me that she was considering quitting.
This was fucked up.
This was war.
"So, I'm thinking." Artie was still babbling. "If we put more of an investment into the audio production for the second quarter of next year..."
"How much are the other companies offering her as a salary?" I cut him off. "Are they paying significantly more than we are?"
"What?" He stepped back. "Did you hear any of what I said over the past five minutes?"
"Not at all." I didn't even try to pretend otherwise. "How much are they paying her?"
He blinked.
"Actually, don't even answer that," I said. "Forward me those company inquiries and any other new ones you may get. I'll be her reference..."
SAM...THE BOSS
"Here's every report you requested, your print out of next month's front-list and your coffee."
Mercedes set down a mug and a stack of folders in front of me the following afternoon.
She was wearing a bright blue dress that clung to her hips and exposed the top of her breasts. And my cock had been hard the second I saw her this morning.
Even during her presentation to the interns hours ago, I'd sat still in the boardroom and tried to focus on anything else while words left her alluring mouth, but it was no use.
The thoughts of bending her over every surface in my office were only getting worse by the day.
"Would you like anything else, Mr. Evans?" She adjusted her exposed bra strap, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"What about the Cadbury report?" I asked.
"Did it."
"The Marshall files?"
"Did it weeks ago."
"Have the backlist titles from..."
"Whitney Wilde has been contracted and signed." She cut me off and crossed her arms. "As have all of the remaining backlist catalogues from the other twenty-two authors you asked me to acquire. They're very happy with your so-called generosity. Anything else?"
"Actually, yes." I ignored the way she spoke about my generosity and opened my desk drawer. I pulled out her personnel file and set it on my desk. "I was looking at your employee contract and making sure it was up to date. You're currently signed on for two more years. Is that still correct?"
"To the best of my knowledge." She smiled. "That sounds about right."
"So, nothing has changed and you're quite happy working here?"
"Sure." She looked away from me and cleared her throat. "Is that all you need from me, Mr. Evans? I have tons of work to do today. We have that Rollins meeting at noon."
I picked up a pen and slid the contract across my desk.
"I made a salary adjustment to the contract. If you initial it, it can be processed as early as this Friday."
Mercedes picked up the paper and finally looked at me, her stunning brown eyes meeting mine.
"I um...Do you mind if I look at this later?"
"I do mind. Look at it right now."
She parted her lips, but she didn't say a word. Then she flipped through the papers, stopping at the salary page and her eyes widened.
"This is..." She blinked a few times. "This is quite an increase."
"It is." I narrowed my eyes. "I think you should sign it."
"Wait a minute. You added a non-compete clause," she said, reading softly. "I, Mercedes Jones, agree to remain at Evans Publishing for a minimum of forty-eight months, and unless terminated, will never pursue any competing opportunities."
"There's a set of pens in front of you. I prefer black."
She set the papers down and stepped back.
"I need time to think about this."
"What exactly do you need to think about?" I was beyond confused. "That offer is triple what you're currently making, which is saying something, since you're currently making double what every other executive assistant here makes."
"I guess I don't like committing to something unless I'm one hundred percent sure, that it will at least be good and somewhat enjoyable for me."
"It will definitely be more than good and extremely enjoyable for you."
"Are you referring to this job, Mr. Evans?"
"What else would I be referring to?"
Silence.
"Um..." She cleared her throat, taking another small step back. "Surely you yourself don't sign contracts after only reading them once."
"I would if it was a contract like this."
She muttered something under her breath I didn't quite catch, and then my desk phone rang.
Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I answered it.
"Yes?" I said.
"Hey." It was Artie. "Glad I caught you before the Rollins meeting. I just got a call from Hilton Corporate and gave them your direct line, so try to be available for their questions in a few hours. I already told them Mercedes was amazing, but they need a second, more direct reference. They want details I don't have, so try to be specific."
"I'll definitely do that." I hung up, still looking at Mercedes. "So, how much time would you need to look over my proposal?"
"A couple months should be enough."
"Months?" I clenched my jaw.
"Yes." She glared at me. "Months. Working for you for an extended period of time is a lot to think about."
Silence.
"Fine." I picked up the papers and returned them to my drawer. "You can get the hell out of my office now."
She shook her head and glanced down at my pants, blushing before leaving the room.
I sat back down in my chair and shook my head. I was confused and upset at the fact that she'd not only blatantly lied to my face, but she was also refusing to admit she was seeking other jobs.
That, and she was still getting under my skin with her sexy bullshit.
Then again, if she wanted to play games, I could do the same...
THE EMAILS
Subject: The Ass-holery Report #235 Can You Believe I'm Still Keeping Track of These?
Today, we're supposed to go over the top literary fiction titles that will be rolled out in the Spring. I emailed the head asshole my top picks LAST WEEK but since he 'doesn't remember', he asked me to RE-DO the entire 200-paged report in an hour. An hour!
Of course, I made way more than one copy of it, so I'm not really re-doing it. But fuck him!
Fuck him hard!
Your bestie,
Mercedes
PS...Is it sad that, ass-holeness aside, he still makes my panties wet more than once a week?
Subject: Re: The Ass-holery Report #235 Can You Believe I'm Still Keeping Track of These?
You mis-typed! We're on ass-holery report #335, not #235! :) And BRAVO for making copies! Way to think smart!
Ugh, I can't wait until you quit! I mean, wherever you end up next, you probably won't get all those over the top benefits, but you won't have to deal with Fish Lips so that's more than a fair trade-off.
Your bestie,
Santana
PS...No, but only because you're still sadly single.
Subject: His cock has to be at least nine inches. At least...
This is going to sound totally insane, but I swear this man was rock hard during my entire presentation today. He had to be. And he had to know I was stealing glances of it because he sat in the back of the room, leaning back with his legs wide open and he kept his eyes on me the entire time.
Your bestie,
Mercedes
Subject: Re: His cock has to be at least nine inches. At least...
You delete these emails, right? LOL. I'll take your word for the nine inches. I'm sure he didn't earn his former playboy reputation for nothing...
Maybe you can give him a huge kick in his nine-inch cock before quitting?
Stay focused on leaving, plus, start limiting these emails that complement him and his cock. Otherwise, you may start to subconsciously believe that you should stay there. O_o
Your bestie,
Santana
Stay safe!