2. Josh
2
JOSH
I really, really needed this job.
I was late on all my bills, and just yesterday, I found an eviction notice tacked to my door.
Fifteen days and I was out.
The landlady was being unreasonable in allowing me a little more time, although she was making all sorts of lecherous offers to take my rent out in trade.
The problem was that she was eighty-seven.
Feisty for an octogenarian, but definitely not my type.
And even if I were to consider her offer, which I’d rather rip my fingernails out one at a time than accept, I’d be afraid I’d break her hip or something.
So, I’d dressed for success in my black leather, knowing it was the only set of clothing I owned that didn’t have holes in it, hopped on my bike, and drove to the temp agency.
Michael, the representative I reported to when I needed work, looked up at me with a sneer.
“Back again, Wilson? Wasn’t the last time bad enough? Aren’t you tired of being fired yet? We said you weren’t a good fit for us, remember?”
“I know, I know, but I really need a job, Michael.” I wasn’t above begging, not if my only other choice was to shag my elderly landlady into an early grave, or at least into traction.
“Come on, man. I’ll do anything. You must have something…”
Michael hemmed and hawed, then scrolled a bit on his computer.
“I do have something that just came in. But you won’t last five minutes there. Coryi Industries. Assistant to the CFO.”
“I can do math. I’m really good at it. I can type, file, take dictation, arrange appointments, and I make a mean cappuccino with a little foam heart floating on it.” I leaned on his desk.
“Please, Michael? I swear I won’t get fired this time.”
Michael snorted.
“You’ll be back here in an hour. I guarantee it. None of the temps I’ve sent to this guy in the past have lasted more than a day, except for Mallory, who was as rigid a bitch as you could find, and was hired permanently. She lasted a year until she eloped to Tahiti this past weekend.” He sighed and printed out a card for me.
“I’ll call ahead with your information for their HR Department. That and this card will get you through security. But I warn you — their CFO is not known for having patience or a sense of humor.”
I grinned.
“Sounds delightful. Thanks, Michael.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m not doing you any favors sending you over there. We just don’t have anyone else available for the job.”
Ignoring his jab, I blew him a kiss and hurried off, glancing at the card he’d given me.
Coryi Industries.
Mr.
Char Coryi, CFO.
Position: Temporary Executive Assistant.
Below that was my name, and the name of the temp agency.
I liked the sound of it all.
I’d never been an executive anything before.
I smiled as I slipped it into my pocket.
Mounting my bike, I headed off toward the gleaming glass skyscraper that housed Coryi Industries.
I parked in the first available space in the adjacent parking garage which was up six levels.
Then I rode the elevator to the ground floor and the lobby.
Michael had been true to his word, having called ahead to let security know I was coming.
They were waiting for me, ready with a temporary visitor badge.
As soon as I provided the necessary identification, I was given the badge and escorted to the elevator that would take me to the executive suites.
“How will I know which office is, um, Mr. Coryi’s?” I asked.
The guard snorted.
“You’ll know it when you see it.”
“Good tip. Thanks.” I rolled my eyes as the elevator door slid closed and my quick ride to the twentieth floor began.
There was only one floor above that, the penthouse, which I assumed belonged to the CEOs, the Coryi parental units.
Must be nice having rich folks who could give me a cushy job.
I was lucky mine didn’t kill me as a cub.
When I stepped out of the elevator, I was in an enormous room that took up the entirety of the floor.
On one side was a very long conference table built of gleaming silver and glass, and surrounded by twenty matching chairs.
On the other side of the room was what appeared to be a waiting area with sleek couches and armchairs.
Small, discreet tables were spaced between them, each bearing a vase of fresh cut flowers and a couple of neatly stacked magazines.
The walls were glass as well, and afforded the most spectacular view of the city I’d ever seen.
At the rear of the room was a beautiful, abstract-shaped desk of the same silver and glass as the conference table.
On it was a computer, a stack of files, and what looked like a phone system.
Beyond the desk was a door leading to an office that spanned the entire back wall of the floor.
The windows to the office were outfitted with slatted blinds, all of which were drawn closed.
Oh, yeah.
That’d be it, I thought.
The guard was right.
I know Coryi’s office when I see it.
I took a quick peek in the reflective surface of the elevator doors, smoothed my hair, and tucked my helmet more firmly under my arm, then lifted my chin and marched to the door to the back office.
I knocked, then pushed the door open when a deep voice called out for me to come in.
What a voice!
It rolled through my bones in a rumble, tickling my balls and putting my leopard on high alert.
As a shifter, my heat had come on me just the day before.
Of course, it had picked the most inconvenient time.
That was just how I rolled.
I fought to keep my leopard in check, but it was really hard to do when I saw the man sitting behind the desk.
He was a big man, muscular, his biceps straining the material of his suit coat.
When he stood up, he topped my six-foot-four by at least a couple of inches.
Icy blue eyes sparkling with intelligence glared at me from under an unruly mop of raven black hair in need of a trim.
He was literally sex on a stick, if one considered the sizable branch stuck up his ass.
And as usual, when faced with a bit of authoritative hostility, my mouth grew a mind of its own.
Sarcasm is my shield.
Not a very strong defense, but it’s all I have.
I bluffed my way into the job, still not sure how Char didn’t throw me out on my ear.
I sure would’ve if I were in his shiny wingtip shoes.
He was sort of adorable when he left me at my desk, his mouth hanging open, and that made my dick sit up and take notice.
No, actually, I’m lying.
My dick noticed him the moment I walked into that office.
When his scent tickled my nose, my leopard growled, a happy little rumble that thrummed in my balls.
He didn’t seem to notice beyond that open-mouthed stare, and seriously, that could’ve just been his reaction to my outrageous behavior.
Maybe he was mated already.
That would explain his lack of interest in an omega who was entering heat.
Not that I could do anything about my attraction to him anyway.
I might be sarcastic, but I’m an omega, and omegas don’t make the first moves.
But they aren’t above a wee bit of encouragement now and then.
I tried.
I really did.
I smiled.
I flirted.
I even winked, but got no more reaction than I would’ve gotten from one of the mannequins at the retail store where I last worked.
Nada.
Zip.
It was infuriating, frustrating, and a little bit insulting.
All he said to me was, “That’s your desk outside on the right. And go to HR to fill out whatever paperwork they need.”
Then he prattled on a bit about me taking money from petty cash to buy a jacket.
I sat at the desk and took a peek in the drawers.
There was the lockbox he’d talked about.
I hunted around in the desk until I found the tiny key that unlocked it.
Twenty-five crisp hundred-dollar bills!
That was petty cash to him?
That was more than my rent.
I relocked the box and put the key back where I found it without indulging in petty theft.
I wasn’t buying a jacket or anything else with his money.
He’d need to put up with me in my holey jeans and t-shirts until I got a legitimate paycheck, paid my rent, and made a trip to the local thrift store.
A tiny noise caught my ear.
My hearing, because of my leopard, was almost preternaturally keen.
I turned my head only far enough to see the edge of the blinds in the office fractionally move.
He’d been looking at me.
Peeking at me like a lovestruck schoolboy.
Suddenly, my day seemed a whole lot brighter.
And my leopard growled up a storm.