Daddy's Boss: A Billionaire Older Man Younger Woman Romance Read online

  Copyright

  © 2017 Lila Younger

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

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  Jenna

  I’m hit with the delicious smell of my mom’s spaghetti and meatballs as soon as I open my parent’s front door. They live in a small house, so the smell really gets into every nook and cranny I take a moment to inhale deeply, and the scent brings with it countless memories of growing up.

  “I’m home,” I yell down the cluttered hallway.

  There’s a pile of shoes in the hall closet, and I toss my flats on top of them. I shrug off my jacket but I don’t hang it up. That’s for guests. Instead, I toss it over the bannister, on top of my dad’s leather jacket. It drives my mom crazy, but that’s how it is at the house. Doing things differently would just be weird.

  “It’s about time,” my older sister, Janine, calls from the living room. “We’ve been waiting forever.”

  I walk through the doorway into the living room. Even though my mom loves redecorating, the most important pieces, like my dad’s old brown recliner and the hope chest, are still there, and I feel right at home immediately. My dad and my sister’s eyes are glued on the screen, where a football game is playing. They look totally alike, both with blond hair and blue eyes. My sister’s the conventionally beautiful one in the family because of that. She cheered in high school. Meanwhile, I was the nerdy, bookish one. The kind that tried not to stand out too much. If I wasn’t related to my sister, I probably would have been called pretty. As it was, nobody looked twice at me. All eyes were focused on Janine.

  As soon as a commercial comes on, my dad gets up and comes over to give me a big bear hug.

  “How’re you doing Jenna?” he asks affectionately. “It’s been a while since you’ve visited.”

  “Not that long,” I reply. “Christmas was only two months ago.”

  “Too long according to your mother,” he says. “Especially when we live in the same city.”

  We technically did, but on opposite ends of it. My parents actually live yet another forty minutes in the suburbs, and there’s no easy way to get there. When I went to college, I told them there was no way I was commuting two and a half hours each way for school every day. I’d be renting an apartment. For the sake of my schooling, they agreed.

  “I’ll try to come more often. But I do have midterms coming up.”

  “Your sister manages to make it home,” my mom calls from the kitchen. “I’ve got food on the table by the way, so come on in and grab a plate.”

  We all troop into the kitchen. My mom’s got a country sort of theme going on, with red gingham curtains and dishes all over the walls. I didn’t know that people still use that style to decorate, but then again, my mom’s pretty old. While we both love interior design, we have very different ideas on the subject. I’m all about midcentury modern and sleek lines, while she skews more farmhouse chic. Even though we disagree though, we both love to shop, and it’s definitely one of the things that I miss most about not being at home. We’d spend hours on the weekend hitting up the flea market for finds that we could DIY into cool new stuff.

  I pick up a red plate, and the three of us form a line, moving from the sink where the noodles have been dumped in a colander, to the pot of meatballs still bubbling away on the stove. There’s nothing quite like my mom’s homemade meatballs. She always does them twice the size of the store bought ones, and they have cheese in them. It’s terrible for my waistline, but they’re a treat that I’ll never pass up. To quiet that little voice in my head, I also pick up a heap of garden salad and skip the loaf of garlic bread on the counter.

  My mom’s already sitting at the table, and I go to the spot I’ve always sat in right beside her. I’m pretty sure the wooden chair has worn a groove from my butt in it all these years. My mom’s already got a glass of milk at my spot. The easy way we fall into a rhythm has me all happy. No matter what happens with school, I know that my parent’s house will always be a familiar place for me.

  We all settle in, compliment my mom’s cooking, and catch up on the news. Janine’s going to school to become a physiotherapist and finally got her grades straightened out enough to graduate. My dad’s still tinkering with his old Mustang. My mom fills me in on everything happening with the neighbors (The Tucker’s have put up these terrible looking solar panels on their roof, and the McKenzie’s decided to move to Florida). Yup, everything is exactly the same. Just when I start to relax, the question comes.

  “So Jenna, how’s the job search?”

  I sigh inside. I knew it had to be too good to be true. One of the conditions of me moving out for school was that I would get a job to help with the costs. Totally reasonable on my parents part. I mean, my dad works as a shift supervisor at a manufacturing plant and my mom is an assistant manager at Bath and Body works. Not exactly the kinds of people who could afford to give out free rides to college.

  Anyways, I got a job at Home Goods right away. No problem right? And it’s sort of fitting, because I’m pursuing a degree in Interior Design, and what better way to practice than by helping people find the stuff to make their homes beautiful? And I would have happily stayed at the job if not for my terrible manager. I lasted almost two years, more than any other part-time employee. But finally, after everyone else had quit, saddling me with back to back eight hour shifts, I told her that I had to quit. I couldn’t afford to have my GPA slip and lose my partial scholarship. It was the only way that I could even afford school.

  My parents have been helping me out since, but my dad never fails to ask me if I’ve found anything when I call home once a week. But here’s something that I just found out: Quitting a job before you’ve found another one is a surefire way to make sure that you don’t get hired. And believe me, I’ve filled out almost five hundred applications at this point. And still nothing.

  “I’ve been looking,” I tell him as I swallow my meatball. “It’s just hard after the holidays. Most places aren’t hiring because they just keep their seasonal hires if they need them.”

  I can tell my dad isn’t happy about the news. The thing I can’t tell is whether he’s upset about the fact that I can’t get a job, or he thinks that I’m making excuses.

  “I am trying,” I stress, hoping he can see the sincerity in my voice. “Believe me. It’s not like I enjoy taking money from you guys. I know I made a promise.”

  My mom puts a hand on my arm.

  “We know honey, we’re not saying you’re not,” she says with a kind smile. And then her face brightens and she turns to my dad. “Hey Frank, didn’t you just say that the plant is hiring?”

  “Now that’s an idea,” he says. “Jenna, why don’t you give me your resume tonight and I’ll hand it into HR?”

  I blanch.

  “What? In the factory?”

  I’m not athletic, not in the slightest. That’s all on Janine. I mean, I can lift my groceries and bring them inside the house, but doesn’t dad work with really heavy machinery and
things?

  “You won’t be in the factory. We need an assistant in the office,” he says, looking pleased as punch. “Answering the phone, copying things, fiddling with computers. I’m sure you can handle it. You’re practically glued to your smartphone.”

  Dad is the office manager of a very cool manufacturing plant actually. They specialize in recycling materials into new things. As someone who’s always wanted to come out with their own line of home goods, it probably could be an advantage to learn firsthand how the manufacturing process for it all works. And more and more people these days want options that are both eco-friendly and beautiful. I actually took a course all about that last year.

  But did I really want to work with my dad? Especially when I’ll be in the same office as him? He’s the boss after all, and there’s nothing that spreads faster than office gossip.

  Then again, did I really have a choice?

  “I’ll send you the resume after dinner,” I say at last.

  “Good,” my mom says. “I’m sure that with dad’s help, you’ll definitely get the job.”

  Great, I think to myself. Who doesn’t want to work with their parents?

  ********

  My first day began a week after. My interview, if you could even call it that, consisted of me showing up in an uncomfortable white shirt and black pencil skirt, shaking hands with the manager in HR, and filling out the paperwork. I guess as long as I didn’t look crazy, that was good enough for him. The fact that dad’s been at the plant forever and knows everyone probably didn’t hurt. I know that I should be grateful to get a job (especially since it meant I no longer had to live off KD mac and cheese), but I couldn’t help feeling sort of uncomfortable about it too. Everyone worked under my dad, and I couldn’t relax and befriend any of them. Who knew what would make it back to him?

  “Can’t think about that now,” I mutter to myself as I get out of my car. “I’ll just stay here until I find another job.”

  I walk through the large parking lot and into the building. My dad told me to dress nice, so I wore my black skirt again, along with a pink shell top and cardigan. I wrapped my hair up into a French twist, and slipped on a pair of black flats. I feel like I should have gone with heels, but I’m terrible at walking in them, and the last thing I need is to trip and fall on my first day of work. It looks professional enough, even though I feel really uncomfortable in it. I’m more of a jeans and flip-flops kind of person, but I know that one day when I do become an interior designer, those sorts of clothes aren’t going to cut it. I guess I might as well get used to it now.

  The receptionist inside stands up as soon as she sees me. She’s got a pregnant belly, and she’s practically glowing with health. Behind her is a mural made of millions of colors. Up close I see that it’s the plastic pellets that get recycled into new products here at the plant. Pretty cool actually.

  “Hi,” she says cheerfully. “You must be Jenna.”

  “Yes. It’s my first day.”

  “Cool. You know, you don’t look like Frank’s kid. I’m Lacy,” she says, holding out her hand. She’s got beautiful auburn hair and a perfectly polished look. “Come on through.”

  We walk together through the door into a relatively large office. I’m surprised by how many people are here for just one manufacturing plant.

  “Oh, this is headquarters for all five of Buchanan Manufacturing’s plants,” she explains. “Mr. Buchanan started out with just one, and then it just grew and grew from there,” she says with a big smile. “But this one is still his baby. He’s around here somewhere actually, so maybe you’ll get to meet him today.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. Having the head boss here didn’t feel lucky at all. I feel very out of my depths here in a professional office. I mean, retail isn’t an easy job by any means, but to me, it didn’t feel quite as serious as working in an office. Not only that, if I did poorly, it would reflect badly on my dad, and that’s the last thing I want.

  Lacy and I head towards the back of the office. She knocks on one of the doors and waves goodbye. I can see my dad on a call inside. I stand uncertainly until the woman in a desk nearby beckons me over. She looks very young and pretty, and she introduces herself as my dad’s secretary.

  “Hi Jenna,” she says cheerfully. “Welcome to your first day here at Buchanan Manufacturing. My name is Beth. I think your dad’s going to be on that call for a while, so why don’t I show you around instead?”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her. “I’m excited to start.”

  Beth shows me to my desk, which has nothing more than a computer and a pen holder. I’m going to be everyone’s assistant it seems, the person who picks up the slack when people are sick, or need extra hands to do the photocopying. In addition, I’m going to be covering for Lacy during her lunches. And I’ll also be taking over her job when she goes on maternity leave.

  “And if it works out well, maybe you’ll want to apply for another position here in the company,” Beth chirps. “Buchanan is a wonderful place to work at. Mr. Buchanan really does care about each and every one of us.”

  I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t say otherwise, considering I’m her boss’s daughter, but I smile back anyways. I just hope that Mr. Buchanan’s not one of those old guys who’s way too touchy and friendly. I always feel uncomfortable, but I never know what I should do in those situations. Beth brings me around to each desk, introducing me as I go. Everyone seems super friendly at least. I’m terrible with names, and as soon as she says one, it just slips out of my mind like sand between my fingers. I know I’ll do better in the coming weeks, when I actually work with them, so my mind sort of drifts off a little.

  We’re about a third of the way through the office when I catch sight of a breathtaking man striding in from the door. He’s gorgeous, tall, the kind of eye candy that can give you a cavity in minutes. He’s got that dark hair and brooding eyes that draws me in and screams ‘watch out! Heartbreaker ahead’ at the same time. I watch him from the corner of my eye, taking in the long legs, trim waist, and impeccably broad shoulders, as he makes his way over to an office and disappears inside. Good. Not one of the ones we’ve hit yet. That means Beth will make introductions hopefully. I bet there’s a smashing body underneath that expensive suit too, I think, mentally running my hands up and down that defined body.

  “You like what you see?” Beth asks, giving me a poke.

  “Oh what? No, no way,” I say with a forceful shake of my head.

  “Uh huh,” she says with a knowing look on her face that makes me flush. “Don’t worry. Every one of us have been dazzled by Mr. Buchanan when we first started. He’s a bit of a player though- I’d be careful if I were you.”

  I swallow hard. That… That was the head boss? He looks so young.

  “He’s only thirty-three,” she whispers conspiratorially. “Can you believe it?”

  “Wow,” I say. “And he’s already done all this?”

  “Well, he’s had a little help. His dad has always been in the recycling business, but he’s the one who really perfected the whole thing with plastics. I mean, I don’t know all the details, the science is way too complicated, but he got his dad to take a chance with him, and here we are six years later, about to expand up to almost ten locations. Isn’t he just amazing?”

  I stare at through the gap between the door and the frame, where I can just see a glimpse of him working away at his desk, and commit that chiseled profile to memory. Where will I be in six years of my career? Probably not half as successful as he was. Mr. Buchanan definitely has ambition and drive. It’s definitely a little intimidating.

  “I can’t believe it,” I murmur, just to say something.

  “I heard that he’s dated one or two of the women in some of the other offices,” Beth goes on. “He is the boss after all. He gets to do whatever he wants. And really, why would anyone refuse someone as good looking as that?”

  Just that moment, Mr. Buchanan lifts his eyes and looks
straight at me. I quickly turn away, pretending I was doing just a casual sweep of the office and focus back on Beth’s face. A moment later, I glance back, and he’s still looking at me. Dark, mysterious eyes, a thoughtful gaze, and just a hint of smile tugging at those perfect lips. Crap. Now he’s caught me looking twice. I forcefully turn my whole body away from his office door, but I can’t help but feel his eyes still on me.

  We go through the rest of the office, and now I’m definitely not remembering a name, even if I could have. All my thoughts are consumed by the fact that my body’s reacting in ways it really shouldn’t for the head boss. The one my dad’s always grumbled about. The one that’s so hot he really should belong in Hollywood, not in my boring, normal life. By the time we finally make it all the way to his door, my thoughts are in such a confusing swirl that I practically stumble over my own name as Beth makes the introductions.

  Mr. Buchanan holds out his hand, and I feel a jolt of electricity pass through me as we touch and shake. His grip is solid, strong, making me feel tiny in comparison. He’s tall too, practically towering over me. The fact that I wore flats today definitely didn’t help.

  “Good morning Jenna,” he says, in a deep rumble that has me weak in the knees. “You’re Frank’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  I manage to nod, wishing that my dad hadn’t popped up in the conversation. The fact that he knows this probably means he’s going to set strict boundaries between us. Of course I would never sleep with my boss, even if my dad wasn’t here, I hastily add in my own head.

  “I’m looking forward to working with you. I’ve got an exceptional team here. I owe my success entirely to them,” he says, flashing a smile that’s got me suddenly wet between my legs.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to say never. Because despite the fact that I’ve never been with a man, every nerve in my body is screaming at me to throw myself at him. It’s not a conscious thing, it’s just instinct. It’s like my body knows that he’s the perfect specimen of male. My breath is all shallow, and I’m hovering just above panic. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, ever, so I have no idea if this is normal or not.