Patricia Kay - The Billionaire and His Boss

“Hello,” P.J. said, thrusting out her right hand. “Welcome to HuntCom.”

Alex took her hand and gave it a firm shake. Hers was just as firm. “Hello,” he said.

“Good luck,” Kim said. She smiled at him, then turned and walked off.

When Alex’s attention returned to P.J., her eyes met his squarely. Something about their steady scrutiny disturbed Alex. Did she suspect something? He forced himself not to drop his gaze.

“I’m told you have experience,” she said.

Yes, that was definitely a hint of doubt in her voice. Deciding brevity was his best bet, Alex nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“And you worked… where …before?”

Sticking to what it said on his fake résumé, Alex answered, “At a warehouse in Sacramento.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “What kind of products?”

“Household appliances.”

Her eyes remained speculative. “Why’d you leave?”

He made his voice light. “Couldn’t very well commute from here.”

She nodded, but instinct told him she wasn’t completely buying his story. “You’ve completed all your paperwork?”

“Yes.”

“Had your physical and drug testing?”

“Yes.” That wasn’t true, but on paper, it said Alex had done so and passed.

“So…you ready to go to work?”

“Yes, I am.”

Turning, she gestured to one of the men in the group still gathered nearby. “Rick.”

A dark-haired, dark-eyed man Alex judged to be in his late twenties or early thirties walked toward them. Like P.J. and Alex and almost everyone Alex had seen so far, except for the employees of the HR department, he wore jeans. His black T-shirt hawked a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert.

“Rick,” she said, “this is Alex Noble. You’ll be training him.” Meeting Alex’s eyes again, she said, “Alex, this is Rick Alvarado. He’s been with the company seven years and can answer any questions you might have.”

The two men shook hands. Rick’s eyes were friendly. Alex liked him immediately and sensed he could turn out to be a friend.

“Follow me,” Rick said. “I’ll give you a tour of the place so you can get a general idea of where everything is stored.” He kept up a running commentary as they headed down the nearest aisle. “You know much about the company, Alex?”

Alex nodded. “Quite a bit. I researched it when I knew I was going to be working here.”

“So you know old man Hunt started out by coming up with a new software and things escalated from there?”

Alex nodded.

“Now we manufacture just about everything in the computer field,” Rick continued. “We have over three thousand products that we ship from this location.”

“That many?” Alex said, although he’d already known this.

“Keeps us hopping 24/7. We run three shifts. Eight to four, four to twelve, twelve to eight. Lots of the guys like the afternoon and night shifts, but me, I like days.’ Course, I work the other shifts anytime they need extra hands,’ cause it’s overtime, and with three little girls and a wife who likes to give those old charge cards a workout…” He laughed. “I can always use the money.”

“Three little girls, huh?”

Rick grinned. “Yeah, we had ’em pretty close together. My oldest is eight, the youngest is four.” Pulling a wallet from his hip pocket, he took out several photos. “I’ll only do this once,” he promised, handing Alex the pictures.

Alex smiled at the likenesses. All three girls had curly dark hair and dark eyes. “They sure are cute.”

“Yeah,” Rick said proudly. “They’re good kids, too. Maria, she’s been a stay-at-home mom, but in September Jenny, she’s the youngest, starts school, so Maria’s going to go back to work.”

“What does she do?” Alex asked politely.

“She’s a preschool teacher. She’ll be teaching at Jenny’s school.”

By now, they’d stopped in a densely stocked aisle.

“You don’t have to remember everything I’m gonna show you,” Rick said. “I’m just giving you an overview. You’ll get a diagram of the place and a product list showing where each of the different products can be found. It’ll take you a while, but after a couple of weeks, you’ll be an old pro at this.”

Alex hoped so. The last thing he wanted to do was fuel that doubt he’d seen in his new boss’s eyes. He was going to have a hard enough time of it remembering to keep in character without worrying about keeping her happy, too. “This place is huge. Do we fill orders from all over or just in certain areas?”

“The center’s divided into four quadrants,” Rick said. “Our unit fills orders for Quad B. I’ll show you. We’ll walk the whole quad. Actually, you’ll probably want to become familiar with all the quads eventually.”

“Why is that?”

“Sometimes certain products sell heavily, like when we’re running a special promotion or something, and you might be asked to fill in at one of the other quads.”

Alex nodded. That made sense. “Does P.J. supervise all the quads?”

Rick nodded. “Yep. She’s the boss. Only one higher than her here is Steve Mallery, the GM.”

Just then, the girl with the purple hair skated by.

“Ruby,” Alex said.

Rick laughed. “You know about her, huh?”

“The clerk who brought me down from HR told me her name.”

“Ruby looks like a punk rocker with those tattoos and all the body piercings, but she’s okay. She’s one of our best pickers.”

“I admit I was surprised to see the roller blades.”

“A couple of the kids use them. Wish I could skate. I’d wear ’em, too. You can sure get around faster. But I’d probably kill myself. Or if not that, break a leg or something.”

“I know what you mean,” Alex said, although he prided himself on being physically fit. Still, he wasn’t a skater. Never had been.

Rick smiled and turned his attention back to the merchandise. “Okay, Alex, lesson number one. Here’s how we stock the products….”

Frat boy.

It was the first thing P.J. thought when she was introduced toAlex. What was he doing there? All P.J.’d had to do was look at him to know he didn’t belong. He was too good-looking and way too polished. His hands alone told the story. No calluses. No rough skin. Clean, manicured nails. Long, elegant fingers.

And then there were his teeth. P.J. always noticed people’s teeth, for they indicated class and financial status more than anything else. And Alex’s teeth were gorgeous—straight and white. Obviously, they’d been well cared for.

She wondered if he’d once held a top-level job, maybe lost it due to drugs or alcohol. Or maybe he’s a corporate spy, sent here to find out if we’re doing a good job. If I’m doing a good job .

The thought was sobering. It also pissed her off. Because P.J. worked hard, harder even than her crew. She had to. She was a woman supervising mostly men. She constantly had to prove herself.

Geez, if corporate wanted to know what was going on here, all they had to do was talk to Steve, or better yet, be above board and come and observe the center openly. They’d soon see what a tight ship she ran.

Well, she’d keep a close eye on Alex Noble. And if he was a spy, she’d soon find out. In the meantime, she wouldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. And yet, even as she was telling herself all of this, she couldn’t deny the frisson of attraction she’d felt when they shook hands. Acknowledging this, she was infuriated with her body’s betrayal.

What’s wrong with you? Alex Noble was so not the kind of man she wanted in her life. Ever since she was old enough to know better, she’d envisioned herself with a man who held the same beliefs she did: say, a union boss or champion of migrant workers. Someone she could respect and admire for his ideas and not how well he filled out a pair of jeans.