Boss. Katy Evans
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a lot of the workload, possibly more than me. I’m not embarrassed to say that I’ve had very little involvement in this company, because I’m lazy. It’s true, you can’t deny it. A bit of a womanizer, too. I started this business trying to bring dating into the information age. I never thought it would be the success it is now, top three in the field. It’s a lot in part thanks to you, Alex.”
My lips twitch a little. “That’s okay. You’ve been a great boss. Two marriages, two divorces, two sons to look after, plus...well, you’re charismatic. We can’t deny your presence is required at every red carpet event ever thrown in this city.”
Alastair laughs a little louder than necessary, slapping his hand down on his desk. “True, true. Well, I admit I’ve grown—my character has matured—along with this business. And I’ve always seen you as my little protégée I think you could help run this joint someday. But of course, there’s someone else set to inherit by default.”
I know he’s speaking of his sons. I know his eldest is some hotshot at a media company and that Kit is the party boy, that he’d been off in Thailand or somewhere for three years.
“William’s got his own empire to run,” he begins, as if reading my mind. “And Kit...he was in Thailand for a while. But it’s time he learned the meaning of hard work. Or at least work.”
He leans back. “Kit has absolutely zero experience, but I don’t see that as an issue, to be honest. When you came to me you were inexperienced as well, and look how far you’ve come? Kit...” He frowns as though considering how to phrase it. “The issue lies in his personality. He’s not cut out for company life as of yet. Kit’s just like his old dad at his age—lazy, unfocused, immature. It runs in our blood, I’m afraid. And his mother didn’t do much to improve our bloodline, I might add.”
Everyone knows Alastair married his second wife, some sort of stripper he met on a trip to London, only because she got pregnant with Kit. She was a party girl and Alastair gave her the boot pretty quick.
“But the thing is, Kit’s still young. He’s not set in his ways like me. I think with some guidance, he could be good at this whole thing. He seems keen on taking over, anyway.”
Of course he is, I think to myself. Let’s be honest, what guy wouldn’t want to be in charge of a multibillion-dollar company with hundreds of employees?
“He’s smart as a whip, Alex,” my boss continues, eyebrows drawn as if sensing my reluctance. “He’s cool as a cucumber, too. He could excel here. I’m determined that he’ll be of some use. I couldn’t bear it if he turned out to be a failure and brought shame to the family name. He has so much potential.”
I chew on my lip to squash my growing discomfort. The idea of someone so inexperienced in charge of me doesn’t appeal in the slightest. But what can I do? I need to suck it up and keep hustling, like I always do. This job is everything to me.
“So what can I do to help you feel more at ease with this...transition?” I ask him.
Alastair chuckles. “Straight down to business as always. Well, in truth, Kit could use a mentor, but he would never accept that. He doesn’t like to be told what to do. While he gets settled, I’m still going to flit in and out to keep an eye on him. But I can’t be around all the time. I want you to guide him.”
Guide him.
Guide that hot, sexy, womanizing playboy who’s about to start playing the boss? Worse than that...my boss? My stomach clutches at the prospect.
“Why so silent now, Alex? My little prodigy, always with something to say, has no words for me?” He raises his brows. “Remember, you just promised you’d do anything for me.”
I sigh, quietly admitting with a smile, “I shot myself in the foot there, didn’t I?”
“I suppose you did.” He smiles back.
I swallow the lump of nerves in my throat. I know that I don’t have a lot of choice but to comply. But I know boys like Kit. They’re cocky. They probably did well at school, breezing through exams easily with minimum effort. They feel ready to take on the world, but they never want to put in the work because they’re not used to it.
I’m radically different. Preferring studies to parties. My parents were workaholic perfectionists with little time for me, and it’s in my DNA to be a workaholic perfectionist, too.
Work was, and still is, my parents’ religion. To the point we talk by phone only on Christmas and birthdays—and mostly, about work. All I have is my little sister, Helena, whom I’ve endeavored to put through the best college thanks to—once again—my hard work. She’s in her second semester at Stanford and she and I are both very proud of that.
My parents have always believed that hard workers aren’t born that way, they are made. They’ve given Helena and me very little financial help since we finished high school. They think it’s formative. But I think that Helena, who is smart as a whip and hopes for a career in technology, deserves the best college education, too.
That’s why this job is so important to me. Accomplishing my own dreams is helping me give my sister the same opportunity with hers.
A man like Kit would never know a thing about sacrificing for someone else. A boy, who’s clearly enjoyed the good life and all the pleasures to be had before work even came into the picture. Babysitting him sounds complicated and that’s not what I studied so hard for. I just don’t like this idea at all.
I don’t have time for lazy boys!
Unless my job depends on it, of course.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” I ask Alastair in an effort to grant his last request.
“Just be a guide to him. Once he trusts you, he might see how hard you work and want to follow in your footsteps. Watch him, teach him and...report to me.”
“What is it that you want me to report?”
“How he’s doing. His inheritance will hang in the balance. I want to be sure my boy is deserving of it. And I’m hoping, to be honest, that with you as inspiration he will be even more adept at this than I am.”
I clasp my fingers together tightly in my lap to contain my feeling of dread. I’d hate bearing the burden of being his son’s new judge, but I love Cupid’s Arrow too much to let it fall into the wrong hands, too. “And if my report is not...what you hoped it would be?” I ask.
“Then you help him change that. For the good of the company.” After dropping that bomb on my lap, Alastair stands. “Let me call him in.”
“Alastair, wait—” The idea of seeing Kit Walker again while I’m still getting my bearings doesn’t sit too well with me yet.
Alastair is already at the door, summoning his playboy son through his assistant. “John, call my son in, will you?”
I’m on my feet and within two minutes, there’s a triple rap on the door. It’s light and casual—and Kit doesn’t even wait for Alastair to invite him in. The door swings open—and yes.
Alastair’s youngest son is still the hottest man I’ve ever seen.
Alastair is back behind his desk. “Come in, Kit. Alex and I were just discussing you and Thailand.”
Kit leans his shoulder against the doorframe and slides his gaze to me. “Of course you were,” he croons in that soft British accent.
What’s that supposed to mean?
“So, Alex,” he says as he moves farther into the office and heads around his father’s desk, “you ever been out of Chicago?”
“I go by Alexandra. Or Ms. Croft,” I say all of a sudden, tipping my chin back haughtily.
Alastair laughs, and Kit raises his brows. “Ah well. Miss Croft,” he murmurs, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Any other instructions