- Home
- Victoria Quinn
Boss Lady: Boss #1 Page 2
Boss Lady: Boss #1 Read online
Page 2
“Is she stupid?”
“I called her myself… Still didn’t get her attention.”
Pine whistled under his breath. “Damn…that must have ticked you off.”
I gave him a glare.
“And I was right.”
“I don’t understand this woman. She’s got a failing business, and I want to buy it from her. If she weren’t so stubborn, she could at least hear my offer.”
“Sounds like she doesn’t want an offer.”
She should want any offer she could get from me. I drank my glass and scanned the club, seeing the beautiful women in their tight dresses and heels. I could go home with someone tonight, or I could not. Didn’t make much of a difference to me. When you had too much of one thing, it turned bland and stale. It’d been a long time since my senses had come to life. It was the same routine every single day. I was living in the fast lane, but I was going at such a breakneck speed it actually felt slow.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Why would I do anything?” I felt the blonde scoot closer to me and rest her hand on my chest. I didn’t push her off, but I didn’t pull her closer either.
“Because I know you, Hunt. You don’t stop until you get what you want. And the fact that this woman refuses to give it to you…just makes you want it more.”
All I felt for that woman was pure annoyance. I didn’t even care about her company that much. I just saw a quick buck and decided to make it. I assumed anyone would be happy to rid themselves of a failing business. Her cold and indifferent response surprised me because I’d never experienced it before. But now I wanted her company even more…just to prove to her she shouldn’t have rejected me so easily.
“She’s speaking at the Business Coalition Conference on Friday.”
“She is?” I already was planning on attending.
“Yep. And I hope she wears a skirt because she’s fiiiiine. Got the nicest legs I’ve ever seen.”
Couldn’t care less about her legs.
“And her ass…damn.” Pine continued on even though he already had a girl to take home.
Beautiful or not, it was irrelevant. All I wanted from her was an acquisition. “When did you see her?”
“She had a meeting with my father about a year ago. I was in the office when she walked by. My dad said she’s the smartest person he’s ever met…and that’s saying something because he says everyone’s an idiot—me included.”
I stared across the club but didn’t focus on anything in particular.
“She’s the richest woman in the world—pretty impressive.”
Richest woman in the world?
“She’s number eleven on the Forbes list. Just a few spots lower than you.”
I hadn’t known anything about her personally up until that point, just heard her name here and there. My interest grew when I thought I could capitalize on her existing product. Deep inside, I was impressed, but I did my best not to show it.
“So I guess I’m not surprised by the way she brushed you off. She probably has an ego.”
I’d be surprised if she didn’t.
“How about you—”
“Did you see the Yankees game last night?” I was done talking about Titan. She’d occupied my thoughts enough for the day.
* * *
My driver pulled up to the hotel and opened the door for me.
The second I stepped out, people snapped pictures of me on their phones. A reporter leaned in with a tape recorder right in my face. “What’s next for Hunt Auto?”
I’d been doing this my whole life, so I took the attention in stride. I didn’t outright smile, but I wore a welcoming expression. I held up my hand in the form of a wave and kept walking, brushing them off without looking like an asshole while doing it.
I walked inside and buttoned the front of my suit. Eyes were on me immediately, recognizing me in an instant. Most of the people there were aspiring entrepreneurs, along with a couple veterans. I shook hands with a few men then moved on.
The keynote speech was taking place in the ballroom, and I slipped in just as they made her introduction.
“As the principal owner of one of the largest beauty and cosmetic companies in the world, Tatum Titan is the richest woman in the world with a net worth of forty-four billion dollars. She started her first company at the age of fifteen and has increased her presence in the capital sphere ever since. A powerful force in business, she’s invested her interests into foreign markets, as well as clean energy here in the United States. Her company, Illuminance, is the first energy company to create solar energy panels exterior to buildings, allowing homes to skip the solar-panel roofs for an exterior pod. Her company’s research has also made solar energy more affordable than traditional sources. Help me welcome Ms. Titan to the stage.” The man clapped before he walked away from the podium, giving her the entire stage.
The audience clapped along enthusiastically.
My eyes searched the bottom of the stairs until I found her. In five-inch stilettos, she ascended the stairs without grabbing on to the rail for balance. Her calf muscles tightened with her movements, her toned and slender legs long and luscious. The pencil skirt she wore fit her waistline perfectly, accentuating the feminine curves of her body.
When she reached the top, she walked to the podium and rested her hands on the surface. Her posture was perfect, her shoulders back and her head held high. She didn’t look down once, her eyes on the crowd in front of her—fearless.
She wore a deep navy top that was tucked in to her skirt. All the buttons were fastened, and the shirt stretched across the swell of her breasts. Her skin was tanned, kissed by the sun. For someone who spent most of her time working, she obviously spent time outdoors. A curtain of dark strands, her long hair was curled and shiny. Light makeup was on her face, just enough to accentuate her features but not overwhelm them.
I was forced to agree with what Pine had said.
She was everything he described her to be.
My eyes trailed over her body, and I tuned out all the words she said. She discussed her business ventures, the struggles of opening her first store, and her journey to becoming a powerful capitalist and brand.
But my eyes cared more about the hollow of her throat, the smooth skin that would be perfect for a man’s tongue. Her left hand was absent of a wedding ring. In fact, she didn’t wear any jewelry at all.
If I saw her on the street, I wouldn’t have known she was such a successful entrepreneur.
She worked the stage like she owned it, making the audience laugh at times and take her seriously at others. She knew exactly how to engage with her audience, to make them feel exactly what she wanted them to feel.
She looked carefree.
I sat in the back row and watched from a safe distance, but my eyes were entranced by the way her hips swayed from side to side. She didn’t drag her feet when she walked. She worked her heels like they were flat sandals.
And she had the kind of confidence that rivaled my own.
I’d never seen a woman quite like this. I met other women in business who were successful, and I’d met women who were just as beautiful.
But never at the same time.
She was a different breed.
When she finished her presentation, she opened the floor to questions. People fired off right away, some with good questions and others with mediocre ones. It was obvious who were experienced business owners and who didn’t know how to add two numbers together.
One reporter in the front raised his hand.
Tatum focused her gaze on him. “Go ahead.”
He stood up so everyone else in the auditorium could hear him. “As a woman entering her thirties, does this mean you’ll be putting your business on hold to start a family? Or is having a family a goal you don’t value?”
My eyes narrowed at the backhanded insult posed in the question. It was sexist, to say the least. I wasn’t even a woman, and the question annoyed me. My ga
ze turned back to Tatum, wondering how she would handle it.
Her face softened into a smile, and it looked so convincing I would have thought it was real. “It’s very rare that I encounter a reporter who’s so concerned with my reproductive health. My ovaries are in great shape, thank you for asking. I’m not entering menopause for at least twenty years, so I’ve got some time.” She scanned the audience again, not breaking her stride or confidence. “Any other questions?”
Both corners of my mouth rose into a smile, admiring the way she brushed off the question without really addressing it. She made the guy look like an ass even after he’d already made himself look like an ass.
Another reporter stood up—another male one. “How does it feel to be the richest woman in the world?”
I actually rolled my eyes at that one.
She wore that same diplomatic smile. “I’d imagine it feels the same as being the richest man in the world.”
I smiled again, noting her subtle fire and hostility. She insulted people without making it obvious, fighting her battles with an indirect touch that was more powerful than a punch in the face.
And I respected her for it.
Three
Tatum
Lucas hung nearby, acting as my private driver and bodyguard. He was there only for show because I certainly didn’t need a man to fight my battles. When I hired him, I just needed him to navigate me through the city so I could keep working in the back seat, but he offered more extensive services. After working for me for years, he’d developed a strong sense of protectiveness over me.
Loyalty was far more valuable than a paycheck, so I accepted his offer.
Jessica and Courtney trailed behind me, their notepads ready for anything that I could possibly need. They stood in silence, scanning the room and informing me of anyone important coming my way. They were my professional entourage, providing an intimidating circle that made business associates think twice before approaching me.
If I were alone, I wouldn’t be able to bat the flies away.
A man in a black suit approached me from against the back of the auditorium. His suit stretched over his strong shoulders, his tailored outfit obviously the work of Armani. A powerful body was hinted underneath the collared shirt and jacket, and I suspected there was a wall of muscle tucked away. I only allowed him a short glance, keeping my thoughts and reactions buried within my green eyes. I didn’t recognize his face, and I wondered if he was an aspiring businessman.
With looks and confidence like that, he’d probably make it.
Jessica interposed her body in his way, cutting him off before he could walk up to me. “Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
He stared at her with his hands resting in his pockets. The look wasn’t hostile, but his deep brown eyes exerted so much power it filled the room like humidity. He never tore his look away from her, silently commanding her to step aside.
Jessica visibly shrank before my eyes, turning into melted butter right there on the floor. Whether it was his obvious attractiveness or his radiating power, it wasn’t clear what made her take a large step to the left.
My assistant needed to get a backbone.
Now there was nothing in this man’s way, so I faced him with my hands together at my waist. I didn’t flinch the way Jessica did, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t affected by his stern countenance. He had a square jaw that was chiseled into masculine perfection. A five o’clock shadow sprinkled his jaw even though it wasn’t even noon yet. His cream-colored collared shirt was pressed over a hard chest, the muscles of his pecs highlighted beneath the fabric. His eyes were brown like a hot cup of coffee on a fall afternoon, but they shone with a depth as cold as a winter morning. He stared at me with the same hard expression he gave my assistant, not the least bit intimidated by me. Men surveyed me with mixed opinions, some respecting me and others doubting my work. Most men were sexist without even realizing it. So far, I couldn’t tell how this man viewed me.
Words weren’t spoken, but a conversation carried on between us. It was a silent battle of power. He seemed to be testing me, but I was also testing him. The longer neither one of us spoke but kept our certainty, the more assured we seemed.
I had all day.
He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and extended it to me. “Diesel Hunt.”
Now I understood the subtle hostility. I took his hand, feeling his powerful wrist under my grasp. I purposely squeezed my hand a little harder than his, needing to project the same kind of strength that oozed from his pores. “Tatum Titan.”
His fingertips were callused as if they hit the keyboard for too many hours of the day. His skin was warm to the touch, his testosterone-pumped muscles producing heat like a furnace in the middle of January. His hand was significantly bigger than mine, overpowering my grasp with brute size. I made up for petiteness with strength, giving him a harder squeeze before I dropped my hand.
I’d heard the rumors about him. That he was tall and handsome and a bit of a ladies’ man. Usually, rumors were exaggerated, and sometimes, completely false. But everything I had heard about him was dead-on.
He was something else.
He didn’t return his hand to his pocket but rested it at his side. “I enjoyed your speech.”
And the asshole continued to undermine me—unsuccessfully. “I doubt a man as experienced as yourself learned anything new.”
His chocolate-colored eyes narrowed, focusing on my lips for just an instant. “That’s a compliment coming from you, Ms. Titan.”
I let my lips soften into a smile.
“But you must not think that highly of me if I can’t get you on the phone for two minutes.”
I wasn’t stupid enough to think this topic wouldn’t arise. He obviously had his determination set on me, interested in one of my businesses. I liked to work alone, and from what I understood, he did too. “I have two minutes now, Mr. Hunt.”
His eyes concentrated on my own, and he took a slight step forward. He was definitely in my personal space, his power infecting every corner of the room. Like a gentle hum in my ear, I could actually hear it. With a height that far exceeded my own, even in heels, he had to be at least six foot three.
I liked tall men.
“I’m a man who lasts longer than two minutes, Ms. Titan.”
Whether he meant to make the inference on purpose, I picked up on the innuendo. He exuded sex by the gallon, and I was surprised he didn’t smell like a woman’s perfume right then. He probably had women battling over who could give him head first. Women were a commodity he had in surplus, a product that never expired.
“Let’s have lunch. You must be hungry after that lecture.”
“I have plans for lunch.”
“Then let’s schedule something for tomorrow at my office.”
I stopped myself from laughing, but I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “Mr. Hunt, I’m not interested in any kind of business venture with you. I’m flattered, nonetheless.”
He didn’t show a hint of anger, but he hardly blinked as he looked at me. “It’s not smart to turn down an offer you haven’t heard. Rule number one of business school.”
“I wouldn’t know—I didn’t go to college.” I wasn’t like the rest of my peers with their Ivy League degrees. I started working in the industry before I became a legal adult. While there was always new material to learn in any environment, a formal education seemed boring to me. I preferred a hands-on approach to life. There were some things you couldn’t learn from books—like how to survive.
He glanced at my lips again, this time staring at them longer than before. He obviously didn’t care if I noticed before he looked me in the eye again, as confident as ever. “I’m interested in your publishing house. It’s a failing business, if you didn’t know.”
I didn’t know how he got his information, but that didn’t matter. He was right on the money. “I’m aware of my finances. Thank you for your concern.” I didn’t like to be questioned ab
out my choices. I wouldn’t be in the position I was in now if I didn’t trust my instincts.
“Then you should listen to my offer.”
“I’m not in the market to sell.” If he pushed hard, I’d push harder back. I glanced at my watch before I looked at his concentrated expression once more. “Your two minutes are up, Mr. Hunt. Take care.”
I pivoted away from him, maintaining the same posture I did anytime I was in the public eye. My shoulders were back, my chest was out, and I glided on my heels. I wore stilettos every hour of the day except when I was finally alone in my penthouse. They were like a second skin, and walking barefoot felt almost unsteady.
Diesel Hunt didn’t stop my exit, but his eyes burned into my back. I could feel his presence surround me like a heavy blanket, nearly suffocating me. The heat from his gaze licked my body like flames from a hearth. I could even feel his look on my ass.
Diesel Hunt wasn’t an enemy I wanted to have, but he wasn’t an appropriate business partner either. Hopefully, that interaction was the last one we would ever have.
But I suspected it wasn’t.
Four
Hunt
I spun the pen in my fingers as I looked across the city. My legs were crossed, my suit fit me like a glove, and I stared at the skyscrapers I owned. Manhattan wasn’t mine, but I was an ambitious man with a driven mind. One day, I would own everything.
And everyone.
I had a few meetings that morning, but my head wasn’t in the game. My thoughts kept drifting to a queen in stilettos, a woman who countered my confidence with her own majesty. She was so certain in her worth that she assumed I couldn’t afford her.
She was wrong.
Face-to-face, I noticed the corners of her mouth. Her skin was creamy white, and I imagined how soft it would feel if I brushed the back of my finger across her cheek. My jaw ached when I thought about those lips, that plump and pink mouth that would feel good all over my body.