Billionaire Boss’s One Night Stand (Executive Arrangements)

1. Loren

1

LOREN

O ne more load and that’ll be it.

Packing a car for a road trip was a mindless, nervous task, but this time, excitement filled me. The more I moved my things into my secondhand SUV, the giddier I felt. As I watched the stacked piles of boxes and bags disappear from my room, a sense of farewell crept in.

And it was a good sensation. I’d lived in the small, closed-minded town of Hamming all my life. Twenty-five years were enough to give to this little spot of Pennsylvania. My future was waiting somewhere else.

“I don’t understand why you’re taking so much,” my older sister, Becca, said. She leaned her tall, lithe frame against the wall near my door. She studied her cuticles, lazy and snobbish as she assumed the privilege of offering commentary. Hearing Becca’s opinions was one of the first things I would definitely not miss.

“Because I’m moving there for good.”

“Seriously, though?” She lifted her gaze as I restacked a couple of lightweight totes to carry them two at a time. Sneering at me with that prissy, judgmental smirk she’d perfected all her life, she watched me struggle to balance the load. Because, of course, she wouldn’t lift a finger to help me. Because, of course, she wouldn’t give a shit about how easy or difficult something was in my life.

“Yes, seriously,” I told her, annoyed that our parents had given me this same degree of doubt last night over dinner. Mom, Dad, and especially Becca. They all guessed I’d fail and slink back home sooner than later. “I’m moving to New York.” Saying it aloud gave me a boost of confidence. “I start my new job Monday.” And I couldn’t wait.

Becca rolled her eyes, looking more like a teenage drama queen than a newly married twenty-seven-year-old. “You won’t stay. Like, you’re not tough enough to last in a big city.”

Oh, just shut up already. I brushed past her, carrying the two plastic boxes toward the door. “Whatever you say, Becca.”

“You think you’re cut out for New York?” She scoffed, trailing after me. Her mission in life was to tease, taunt, and belittle me. When I was eight, I learned the important lesson of blowing off her criticism. The less attention I gave her and the quicker I showed her how I could roll with the punches, the harder she’d try to get to me.

Exhibit A of why I should’ve made this move years ago… I sighed, hearing her footsteps behind me as I hurried to the car.

“You’re not used to living in a big city.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t adjust to it.”

Another derisive huff came as I left the house. “You have, like, no street smarts.”

“Then I guess I’ll learn as I go.”

She laughed, leaning against my car and crossing her arms. “You’re too sheltered to even know how to get around in a city.”

“I bet my phone will help me.”

“And you’ll look like such a dumbass, walking around like a tourist and not fitting in.” She tugged on my sleeve after I set the totes in the backseat. I was taking just about all I had, but that wasn’t much. When it came to furniture and belongings, Becca always got the good stuff. When we moved during high school, forced to downsize when Dad lost his job, I was the one stuck in the tiniest bedroom and expected to give up half my things to make it fit. Then when she moved into her house with her husband, they asked me to give up all the furniture I’d been buying and saving for when I wanted to move out. Because “Becca needs it more than you do.”

“You think you’re going to fit in with drab clothes like this at the big office?” She smiled, loving the ability to torment me.

“I’m not wearing these kinds of clothes to the office,” I replied dryly, counting down the minutes until I could hit the road.

“You don’t have any fashion sense to know how to dress for an office.”

I tilted my head to the side and put my hands on my hips. “And you do?”

She lost her sassy expression, but I wasn’t done. If she wanted to act like this, I’d hit where it hurt. “You know how to dress for any job?” I snapped my fingers, mocking surprise. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t. Because you’ve never had a job. Always too lazy.”

“I’m not lazy. I was busy getting married.”

“Oh, sure. And I wonder how long Dan’s going to enjoy being your sugar daddy.” I rolled my eyes. “Get off my back. I’ll figure out how to make my life a success.”

“Your life is going nowhere. You’ll never make anything out of yourself. Here or in the city.”

“Oh, and settling for a mediocre man and thinking you’re suddenly someone special just because you got married is how you’re making something out of your life?”

She glowered at me. “Dan is not mediocre.”

“No?” I grinned. “Then that sob story you told us at your bachelorette party about his not being hot enough and having a small?—”

She shoved at me. “Shut up!”

“A small?—”

She shoved again. “I said shut up!”

I cracked up, loving that she’d have her taste of karma. Her whole goal in life was to marry someone in town and do nothing, and well, the selection of men in Hamming left a lot to be desired.

“I was just joking,” she muttered as I went back in the house to get the last bag.

“Hmm, no. Your maid of honor said she slept with him in high school and he was just as small then as?—”

“Shut up!” she growled, reaching out to shove my shoulder again, but I dodged her.

God, I cannot wait to get out of here. I grabbed a tote bag with some things I'd put aside for the drive and let out a satisfied sigh at the emptiness of the teeny room I’d been stuck in for too long. The furnished studio I would rent in New York was tiny as well, but it’d be mine , away from here.

Becca trailed after me again as I left the house and checked over the placement of all my things in the SUV. It stung that my parents weren’t here to tell me goodbye, but that was nothing new. They were too busy golfing, and I supposed their hobbies would always matter more. Then again, they were taking Becca and Dan out to lunch in half an hour, so I supposed their priorities would stay consistent, at least.

I got in the driver’s seat and typed in the navigation, ignoring Becca crossing her arms as she stood in the driveway.

“Why are you still here?” I said without looking up as I typed on my phone, checking that the map app was loading. “I don’t need you to see me off.”

She laughed wryly. “I wanted to see if you’d actually do it. If you’d leave like you claimed you would.”

I faced her slowly, raising my brows. “You wanted to see if you could call my bluff?”

“Yeah. Because why would some fancy company in New York want you ?” She went back to studying her cuticles.

Because I got perfect grades in college. Because I did ad work for shelters and volunteer groups that got national recognition. Because I’m smart and a hard worker, goddammit. I bottled all that in. It would go in one ear and out the other with her. Besides, it only mattered if I knew those things. The hell with her. I didn’t need her approval, and I was sick of waiting around for a scrap of it from my family.

“Well…” I flicked my hand at her. It wasn’t a wave. She wasn’t worth my energy to say goodbye to. “Good luck not annoying Dan, I guess.”

She cracked a mean laugh. “Go to hell, Loren. You need a lot more than luck to make something of your life. I’ll be here to watch when you crawl home after the city chews you up and spits you out.”

I’m done.

I faced forward and sighed. Shoving my gear into drive felt good, but once I left Hamming and hit the highway, I felt fantastic.

I was finally taking charge of my life. It was overdue, and I fantasized about how awesome this adventure would be.

No more trying to compare to Becca. No more seeing my parents frown when I couldn’t be more like my “perfect” sister. No more being stuck with a shitty job market in a small town.

As the tires traversed over mile after mile, though, some of Becca’s criticism snuck in. Her words festered and picked at me, making me cringe with worry.

I was sheltered, growing up in a small, rural town and never going on vacations anywhere fancy.

I was na?ve when it came to finding my way, relying on navigation often. I’d read up on the subway system and I still couldn’t understand when and how I determined something was uptown or downtown.

And I was a tad ignorant about what constituted as office chic. I didn’t have much to spend on a wardrobe, so designer items weren’t happening anytime soon. My style was a little on the eccentric side, with color and a fondness of floral prints.

“Damn you, Becca.” I grabbed my phone and called the one person who’d always counter the negativity my sister gave me.

I’d met Hailey in college, and she was the one who told me to apply at the company she worked at, Richards Consultation. She was my “in” at the job I’d start next week, but I was certain my résumé spoke for itself. The interview with that John guy went so well, too.

“Are you already here?” Hailey answered with an excited squeal. “Wait, no. You said you wouldn’t be in until this afternoon.”

“I just left home.” Home was a stretch. It never felt like one.

“I can’t wait for you to get here!”

“Me too.”

She sighed, noticing my glum tone. “Uh-oh. Let me guess. Becca was giving you her usual shit.”

I nodded, not sure if she could see the gesture on the video with the angle of my phone in the holder on the dash. Hailey and I became fast friends in college, and we’d stayed in touch over the years. She was all too aware of how vicious my sister could be.

“Loren, trust me. You are going to do great here.”

I nodded again, letting her pep talk lift my spirits. She was just that bubbly, bright kind of person who could always make the mood lighter by sheer force of her peppy will.

“Even if your boss might be an ass.”

I smirked. “After dealing with my sister? Ha. Bring it on, Mr. Richards.” I might not have had a long résumé to rely on, but I did have a lifetime of experience in dealing with an antagonistic downer.

She hooted and clapped, applauding me. “I believe in you, girl. You’re going to do great here. I know it.”

Lowering my sunglasses from the top of my head, I squinted through the sunshine piercing the clouds. It felt like an omen, the light after the darkness. And just like that, I decided to believe in myself, too.

Hours later, I reached my apartment. And then another few hours later, I got everything moved in. Even though the process was long and daunting, a stubborn sense of excitement gripped me.

I’d taken a leap of faith, and I was here, ready to finally start my life on my terms—after I slept. Moving was exhausting even on the best of days, but over the weekend, my nervousness gnawed on me.

This was such a big change, so many changes at once. Hailey came over to welcome me, and that helped, but come Sunday night, I felt too antsy and anxious to relax. Tomorrow was the big day. I’d start my new job, and I let the idea of going out to celebrate grow on me.

I could have one drink. I could explore and see what was around me here. I could move around. Hell, distracting myself with something to do would be better than pacing alone in my apartment. I’d already put everything away, and now I was… listless.

“One single drink,” I whispered to myself, wishing Hailey were free to join me on this spontaneous idea to go out. “Just one drink to celebrate.” After all, it wasn’t every day that I would leave home and strike out on my own like this for the first time.

I checked my summery outfit in the mirror one last time, then I rode the impulsive urge to go out and celebrate. I left my apartment smiling, so damn happy that I was taking charge of my life and doing what I wanted.

Nothing will stop me from being happy here , I promised myself as I stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Nothing and no one.