Chapter nine
Rylee
Mysterious boss.
I ’ve waited all day to meet Lucien, my mysterious boss, but he’s in no rush. Lunch came, and I spent it with Leon and a few other colleagues. I’m back at my desk, reviewing the company’s marketing plan, when the ring of my office phone startles me. I stare at it for a second before picking it up.
“Oui?”
“Mr. Lucien would like to see you in his office,” a woman says in French.
“Where… where’s his office?”
“The one across from yours,” she replies, as if I should’ve known. Why didn’t Leon tell me that?
“Merci, I’ll be right there,” I manage to say in my best French.
I lower the phone as my heart picks up speed. Has he been watching me this whole time? The memory of that strange, prickling feeling earlier sends a chill down my spine. I reach into my purse, pulling out my small compact mirror to check my face and dab at my lipstick. Taking a steadying breath, I smooth my blazer and adjust my pants, repeating to myself, “Please don’t be creepy.”
My heels click against the floor as I head toward his office, head swirling with questions. I stop in front of it, my knuckles tapping lightly on the door.
“Come in,” a deep voice calls from within.
I open the door and step inside. His back is to me, and his hands are in his pockets as he stares out the window.
“I won’t be your sugar baby.” My thoughts tumble out before I can stop myself.
Did I say that out loud? Great. Can this building please collapse with me inside?
But he doesn’t flinch. Instead, he lets my words hang in the silence before slowly turning to face me.
And what the actual hell? I take a step back.
He smirks. “Good to know,” he says, his French accent unmistakable.
The man in front of me is tall, with warm, light-brown skin and hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail with a perfect fade. Sharp jawline, beard neatly trimmed. His broad shoulders fill out a perfectly tailored blazer that fits him like a second skin. I blink, stunned. This can’t be.
“Luc?” The name barely leaves my lips as the pieces click together. Lucien. Luc. How did I not put two and two together?
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out, but the real question is, why am I here?
“Hi, Rylee. Welcome to BCAK.” There’s an edge of amusement in his eyes.
“BCAK?” My head spins. “As in… your family’s company?” The realization sinks in slowly, almost painfully. “So you’re my boss. The CEO?”
He pushes away from the window, and the air around him seems to shift like he commands the space by being in it. Leaning back against his dark mahogany desk, he crosses one ankle over the other, watching me with that same smirk.
“What am I doing here?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re our new Head of International Marketing.”
“I know that, but… why? And how? There’s no way this is a coincidence.”
“It’s not.” His eyes meet mine with an intensity that sends pressure curling into my chest. “I heard your company was bankrupt, and you’d be out of a job, so I bought it. To help.” His gaze softens, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that sends a flutter through my stomach. No. Not a flutter. Just leftover nerves.
“So, you thought I couldn’t find another job without you swooping in?” My voice is sharper than I intended. “How did you even find out? I only told—” Mia . Would she have told him? Did she know he was my new boss?
“Mia doesn’t know I bought the company,” he says, as if reading my mind.
I pause, taking that in. “Is that the only reason you bought it? Just… to help?” I’m not sure what answer I want to hear. After that night, I disappeared, got a new number, and erased him from my life. Why would he help me unless he wanted something?
“We’d already been looking to expand into the US, so it was the perfect opportunity.”
My heart sinks a little at that, which is ridiculous. What did I expect him to say? The thought of working with him every day complicates everything. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
“What’s with all the mystery? Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Because of this reaction right here.” He grabs a small soccer ball from his desk, squeezing it in his hand. “I wanted you to see that this is an incredible opportunity. Before you say no, think about it. You’ve seen the place, what we’re offering. I know you’ll do amazing here—I’ve seen your work. Your skills in marketing are exactly what we need as we expand to the US, and you already understand that audience.”
I grit my teeth, hating that he’s right, hating that he kept me in the dark. And now, seeing this place, he’s made it even harder to say no. I didn’t spend all this time avoiding him just to end up working for him. The way my heart races in my chest is precisely why I shouldn’t be working for him.
“Take the week to think it over. You can give me your answer, then.” He pushes off the desk, taking a step closer, and instinctively, I take a step back. We continue this dance, step by step, until my back meets the cool glass door, and there’s nowhere left to go. He’s close enough that I catch his scent, a mix of spicy and sweet, uniquely him. I fight the urge to close my eyes and breathe him in.
His gaze lingers on mine, and that strange, electric feeling returns, prickling across my skin. So he was watching me. I felt it, even through the tinted glass. This is exactly why working for him is a terrible idea—being this close to him is like standing too close to a flame.
“It was nice to see you.” His eyes drop briefly to my lips. “I hope you’ll say yes. I want you here, working with me.” His words are smooth, that French accent wrapping around them, and he’s standing too close.
It feels like he’s holding my breath in his hands. And then he steps back, releasing the air. I take a shallow inhale, trying to remember how to breathe again.
“I’ll be waiting for your answer.”
I stand there momentarily, watching him, then turn and push through the door. Outside, I lean against it, closing my eyes briefly before returning to my office.
What in the actual fuck just happened?