Oh shit. That was a sexual pun. No one had ever made one with me before. And the fact it was this guy did something to me. It made me feel a little naughty and sexy and…

No. No way. Absolutely not.

Okay, I hadn’t decided what I’d do about this possible employment situation. But I sure as hell wouldn’t agree to firing that guy sitting outside in the private lobby.

Mr. Cole sailed past us without another glance, leaving behind a trail of his delicious cologne mixed with a spoonful of “don’t fuck with me. I’m the boss.” Did alpha males have their own distinct scent that subconsciously told others to watch their step? Because this man shouldn’t be fucked with. Not ever. He had no fear.

Except of ugly people. Yet, he’d clearly said he would…

Oh my God. I can’t even think it.

Keri and I watched him disappear into the stairwell, to the roof, I supposed.

Once out of sight, I released the breath I’d been holding in. “Holy shit. That man’s…that man’s…” I didn’t have a word. Domineering? Fearless? A huge coldhearted prick? Sexy as fucking hell in the most aggravating way? “…different.”

Keri grinned and nodded. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it, but I prefer the word eccentric. You’d never know from looking at him, would you?”

I shook my head slowly from side to side, feeling like I’d just been trampled by the world’s biggest pair of balls masquerading as a human man. A gorgeous insane man who had the world at his feet, yet had serious issues. “Um…no. I can’t say I would’ve guessed it.”

She smiled warmly and patted me on the shoulder. “Well, if it’s any consolation, he’s a damned marketing genius. Even if only a tenth of what he knows rubs off, you’ll be a god. If you can survive working for him.”

I lifted a brow.

“Just look up ‘perfectionist’ in the dictionary. His picture will be right there.”

Oddly, it was the only thing about the man I’d guessed correctly. A perfectionist. But now as I stood there, my heart pounding inside my chest, my nerves sparking erratically like black market fireworks, a greedy part of me hungered for what he’d offered: Power. Over my own damned life. I was beginning to see there was so much more waiting for me if I was willing to take it, to fight for it.

I took a deep breath, feeling like I stood high on a hill. Off in the distance was a tall rugged mountain with snow on its cap, surrounded by a forest of green trees, its peak so high, it touched the clouds. That was my goddamned mountain. All that stood between us was a whole hell of a lot of rough terrain—quick sand, tar pits, and an enchanted forest with a big, mean sexy ogre toting a huge fucking club.

Suddenly, I felt the surge of determination welling inside me. Perhaps because I now saw how this path clearly lead to my endgame. A beautiful future awaited. All I had to do was push forward and take the job.

I looked at Keri. “See you tomorrow, bright and early.”

“Welcome aboard, Miss Snow,” she said cheerily.

I marched over toward the elevator banks and the seating area where Craig sat with his laptop open, typing away. He glanced up at me with a flavorless expression. “Mr. Cole ready for me now?” he asked prickishly.

I shook my head no. “No, he had to leave.”

Craig let out a huff. “What a fucking dick,” he whispered to himself. “I was up all night preparing this bullshit for him.”

Now, I get how strange this is going to sound, but good old Craig here calling Mr. Cole a “fucking dick” somehow rubbed me the wrong way. I inexplicably felt like I was the only person in the world who’d earned that privilege. Also, I was at least brave enough to say it to Mr. Cole’s face, and not to some stranger I didn’t even know, behind Mr. Cole’s back. It was completely unprofessional to speak about your boss like that to someone who wasn’t a trusted friend or family member you leaned on for the requisite boss-venting.

“Craig, I’m going to give you some advice: don’t be such a whiny asshole. It makes you look weak.” I walked over and pushed the call button for the elevator.

“Excuse me? Who the hell are you?”

I shrugged, completely blown away by my need to stick up for Mr. Cole. “Lily Snow. And by the way, Mr. Cole says you’re fired.”

His jaw dropped. “He can’t fire me.”

The elevator doors chimed and then slid open. “Apparently he just did. Have a great day.”

As the doors closed, I distinctly heard Craig call me a “fucking ugly bitch.” It was the first time in my life I recalled being unpleasant to someone, who probably deserved it, and it felt kind of…ugly. Maybe because Mr. Cole had just gotten me to do his dirty work.

On the other hand, I did need to toughen up, because working for the boss probably meant doing things outside my comfort zone all the time.

I laughed at myself. Ya think?

I really needed to sit down and figure out how I’d deal with seeing Mr. Cole every day and not allowing it to get to me.

He’s expecting you at his house Friday night. How are you going to deal with that?

Later that afternoon, I went for an insanely long run in the heat, trying to digest my meeting with Mr. Cole.

My conclusion?

Temporary insanity.

Mine, of course.

It was the only explanation for why I’d asked that man—now my boss—to fuck me. I’d wanted to push him and make a point by asking for something as equally appalling as his request to help him with his phobia. It had been a knee-jerk reaction, and I never really expected him to say yes.

Only, he had.

Obviously, I couldn’t go through with it, but now I really wanted the job for my own damned reasons. And I wanted Mr. Cole to respect me. No, not because I needed the man’s approval, but because I needed him to teach me everything he knew and he was not the sort of person who’d waste his precious time mentoring someone he saw as weak and hopeless.

Well, having sex with him is not the way to get his respect. I’d have to think up some way out of it that didn’t paint me as spineless. Hell, he couldn’t stand the sight of me, so it wasn’t like he would mourn the lost opportunity. If anything, it would be the opposite.

I kicked off my running shoes and stripped off my socks, getting ready to take a shower, when my cell rang on my desk.

Oh crap. It was my brother, and I knew exactly why he was calling. “Hey, John. Tell Mom and Dad to stop using you as their spy.”

His deep laughter poured through the phone and immediately put me in a better mood. John, who was three years older, had that effect on everyone. He was warm, genuine, and feisty like me, but there was a sprinkle of shameless comedic smartass in everything he did.

“Sorry, Lily, but they promised to stop coming over to my place unannounced if I give away all your secrets.” John had moved out on his own about six months ago, and my parents had been freaking out ever since, despite the fact John was twenty-eight, very capable of getting around in a wheelchair, and had been basically taking care of himself since he left home for college. Of course, after he graduated, he’d made the huge mistake of moving back home. I think he tolerated the lack of privacy until he started to get serious with his girlfriend. They eventually broke up, and I was pretty sure it was due to my mom’s constant intrusions and mothering—making sure he was up on time for work, cleaning his room while they were still in bed, and washing his clothes, despite his very polite and sincere objections. My father would’ve been just as bad, only he worked during the day—a math teacher at the local high school—and he taught night classes at the J.C. All of which kept him busy most of the time.