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“We play by my rules now.”

—Kit, the new boss

Who does Kit Walker think he is? The trust-fund heir waltzes in and wants to boss me around, but if I catch him misbehaving, his father will yank his inheritance. Stalemate, right? Not when our chemistry is irresistible! Ironically, we run the top dating app. Could this be my “perfect match”...or the perfect scandal?

—Alexandra, the one in charge

New York Times, USA TODAY and Wall Street Journal bestselling author KATY EVANS writes swoony contemporary romances with heroes to die for and heroines you root for. She lives with her husband, two kids and their beloved dogs. To find out more about her and her books, visit her pages. She’d love to hear from you.

Website: www.KatyEvans.net

Facebook: www.Facebook.com/AuthorKatyEvans

Twitter: @AuthorKatyEvans

BookBub: www.BookBub.com/Authors/Katy-Evans

Boss

Katy Evans


www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 9781-4-740-9214-2

BOSS

© 2019 Katy Evans

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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To the Universe, who conspires to help us find

“the One” when we least expect it.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Epilogue

About the Publisher

One

My motto as a woman has always been simple: own every room you enter. This morning, when I walk into the offices of Cupid’s Arrow, coffee in one hand and portfolio in the other, the click of my scarlet heels on the linoleum floor is sure to turn more than a few sleepy heads. My employees look up from their desks with nervous smiles. They know that on days like this I’m raring to go, and heads will roll if I don’t get exactly what I want.

“Gather around the conference table, everyone. The morning brief begins in two minutes,” I call out.

Ben, the head of the tech department who only attends important meetings of my design team, is the first to lurch toward me. He’s got a coffee half extended, and he looks suddenly sheepish when he realizes I’ve already bought my own. His cheeks are flushed, clashing with his straw-colored hair.

“I didn’t know if you’d have time to grab a coffee...but now you have two.”

I smile at him as I put my things down on the conference table to accept his gift.

“Skinny latte.”

“Your favorite.” He shoots me a smile.

I take a sip and smile back. “Well, a person can never get too much coffee. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

I take a long gulp from my foam cup, relishing the hot liquid. I can practically feel the caffeine entering my system and I’m so grateful. This will definitely be a long day, and I need all the boost I can get.

Today, I need things to go perfectly.

With everyone slowly filtering into their seats around the conference table, I take my position at the head and turn on the wall screen. The whole group looks up at me with wide eyes. Watch and learn, I think to myself, this is how the professionals get things done, people.

“All right, now that everyone’s here, let’s begin,” I start. “As you all know, we’ve been focusing on revamping the brand. Can anybody tell me what I’m looking for in the new design?”

No one replies.

I sigh.

God. Sometimes I feel like I’m some sort of babysitter.

“Talk to me, Ellie, seeing as no one else will.” I glance at my best friend since middle school, Ellie Mason. She followed me to Cupid’s Arrow when I landed my dream job and needed to fill some vacancies on my team, and I’ve never regretted having both a best friend and a talented designer on board.

“The app’s color scheme is fundamental to grasping the audience we want,” she begins, her speech polished and thought out. “Cupid’s Arrow is first and foremost a dating app for young people. It’s possible they could be put off by the dark colors used on the home page and the messenger. What we need is a burst of color to attract the eye.”

“Yes, Ellie. Thank God somebody’s listening to me,” I say, causing my other team members to laugh. “So, with that in mind, what has everyone come up with? Let me see.”

My entire team scrabbles in their briefcases for the folders that should’ve been on the table five minutes ago.

“Seriously, guys?” I laugh in disbelief, then shoot them all a look that says they should know better.

Tim, the youngest member of my team, finally pulls out a design consisting of color blocking in primary colors. I bite the inside of my cheek as I review the idea.

“Tim, this is good...except the primary colors only appeal to children. This is a dating app. We don’t really want seven-year-olds to start dating yet, do we?”

Tim laughs and looks a little embarrassed, and I smile kindly and give him a brief nod, trying to hide my exasperation. I glance at the rest of my team, hoping we’ve got something better, already feeling my nerves start to rattle. Alastair wants the color scheme decided on today, and to be honest, so do I. I take a quick look at everybody’s work, pulling out the best ideas.

Not a lot is fabulous, unfortunately. Ellie has given me something good, though. She smiles as she passes me her portfolio with a look that tells me she prays we’ll use hers. I don’t smile back because I try never to play favorites—at least, not in the office.

After everyone has presented their ideas, I lay my own out for the others to inspect.

“It needs to be more like this,” I tell them, clicking on the wall screen remote. I show them the hues of red and gray I’ve picked out. “Gender neutral. Striking. Denoting passion. Bold with lasting impact. It’s timeless, something that everyone can be drawn to.”

The team gazes with interest at the plans on the screen. It pains me to keep from telling them this is how they should’ve been doing it all along. Ellie can see the frustration on my face and she smirks, leaning back in her chair to enjoy my moment of annoyance.

I fix her with my best glare.

A whole morning has been wasted on something so easy.

Fantastic.

“Let’s take Ellie’s and my designs as a starting point and fine-tune the color scheme. Each of you will choose three by the end of the day so that we can whittle it down to a final idea. Is that clear?”

Everyone nods enthusiastically, reenergized by my presentation. As they all drift back to their desks to begin work, I pull a face at Ellie. It’s a dark look to match my frustrated mood; my team always manages to wind me up on the most important days. Ellie points to my coffee.

“Feed the grump monster,” she says with a grin.

Of course, my best friend knows caffeine is good for my soul.

I give her one last dirty look and finish off my second cup of the day. It’s 10:00 a.m. and I’m already wiped out. At least I know the team will probably choose my design. Though it sounds bigheaded, I know my ideas are always the best. There’s a reason Cupid’s Arrow swept me up at age twenty. There’s a reason I’m the head of the department after only four years—four years of unfailing enthusiasm, dedication and hard work. I carry the design team entirely on my own back, and I deserve recognition for it.

Ben walks over while I’m organizing my things.

“Thanks for coming, Ben. I suppose we don’t really have anything decided yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as we find our winning design so you can start working on your end.”

“Of course,” he says. “What are you doing after work tonight?”

I feel a little sad telling him that I plan to go home and reheat last night’s Chinese takeout. It’s a shame that I’ve always been a lousy cook because food is one of the highlights of my day. “I think I’ll have a quiet night tonight,” I tell him, as though I usually go out partying rather than slipping into pajamas and catching up on Grey’s Anatomy.

“Forget that. We should—”

The office doors swing open to reveal Alastair Walker—the CEO of Cupid’s Arrow, and the one person I answer to around here.

“How’s the morning slug going, my dear Alexandra?” he asks in that British accent he hasn’t quite been able to shake off, even after living in Chicago for a decade. He’s adjusting his sharp suit as he saunters into the room. For his age, he’s a particularly handsome man, his gray hair and the soft creases of his face doing little to steal the limelight from his tanned skin and toned body.

At the sight of him, Ben quickly eases back.

“The slug is moving sluggishly, you might say,” I admit, smiling in greeting.

When Alastair walks in, everyone in the room stands up straighter. I’m glad my team knows how to behave themselves when the boss of the boss is around. But my own smile falters when I notice the tall dark-haired man falling into step beside Alastair.

A young man.

A very hot man.

One in a crisp charcoal suit, haphazardly knotted red tie and gorgeous designer shoes, with recklessly disheveled hair and scruff along his jaw.

Our gazes meet. My mouth dries up. I’m completely dazed all of a sudden. I’ve never seen a guy look so handsome or so cool without even trying.

He’s got a head of dark brown curls.

Light brown, almost amber eyes.

The shadow of a beard across a square jaw.

A body to die for.

Tall. With shoulders a mile wide, perfectly hugged by his unbuttoned jacket.

I don’t know what he’s doing with Alastair, but I know he’s the best-looking man I’ve ever seen in my life.

It’s like the whole room shifted on its axis when he entered. And not only that, but it feels like somebody just tilted my axis a little bit to the left, a little bit to the right, and now, I can’t seem to set it back to center.

“Everyone. I’d like to present my youngest son, the black sheep of the family.” Alastair slaps the younger man on his back. The man’s lips curve in amusement, but I notice that his eyes gleam in something like challenge over Alastair’s black sheep comment.

A prick of empathy stabs me in the chest as I watch him step forward and finish for his father. “Kit Walker,” he says, his voice deep and rich. His gaze pauses on me, and my chest constricts again as we stare.

“And this,” Alastair tells him as he motions Kit forward, “is Cupid Arrow’s secret weapon, Alexandra Croft.”

Amber eyes hold mine and won’t seem to let me go.

Breathe, Alex!

Kit stretches out his hand. “A black sheep and a secret weapon. Sounds like a dangerous combination,” he says in a low, teasing tone.

“Both easily underestimated,” I add with a smile. I’m pleased that my voice is level as I extend my hand to shake his. His grip is warm, his eyes gleaming with curiosity and amusementand something else. Something like respect.

He seems intrigued by my comment, aimed to let him know that I understand his frustration with his father. I don’t think my parents expected me ever to get where I am.

“A pleasure to meet you, Kit,” I say.

“The pleasure’s mine.” He speaks in a toe-curling British accent that should be outlawed in the States.

I realize we’re both staring and pull my hand free, embarrassed my team saw me ogle him. I’ve heard stories about Alastair’s youngest son. None of them good. Of course now that I see he has playboy looks to match his playboy reputation, I can believe that every single one of them is true.

“Well, why don’t you all introduce yourselves to my son while I speak to Miss Croft?” Alastair tells the team. “Ben, we’ll see you down in Tech later.”

“Yes, sir,” Ben instantly says.

Ben nods at Kit and Kit nods back, then my friend squeezes my arm in a gesture of comfort before he goes back to his floor.

Kit watches him disappear with a mild frown of curiosity on his face, then his gaze returns to me. It’s inquisitive. Intense. I shake it off and briskly follow Alastair into his office.

Don’t glance back, Alexandra. You’ve never allowed a guy to distract you and you aren’t about to start now.

But I can’t shake off the tingle in my hand, lingering from where Kit Walker touched me.

Two

Alastair opens the door to his office for us, gesturing for me to enter first. “Have a seat.”

I straighten my suit jacket as I enter, suddenly a little nervous. I barely ever make room for nerves in my life. Usually, everything is on my own terms, and I can’t help feeling relaxed that way. But this mysterious meeting has thrown me off. Suddenly, I’m paranoid that my job might be on the line.

Can it be?

Don’t be silly, Alexandra, this place would crumble without you.

Alastair laughs at my expression as he crosses the room to sit behind his desk. “There’s nothing to worry about, Alexandra. You know how much I value your contributions. Now please, sit down.”

I’m awash with relief. I try and regain my composure, settling for a wan smile as I take a seat.

Alastair threads his fingers together and places them on top of his desk.

“This is hard for me to say. We’ve been colleagues for some time now, and you’re one of my top employees. That’s why I’m letting you know before the rest of the team—I’m leaving, Alex.”

“What do you mean?” I sit up straighter, alarm shooting through me.

Alastair chuckles. “I thought you’d be pleased to see the back of me.”

“Of course not!” I cry. How can my boss be leaving? Leaving where?

“I’m messing with you, Alex. Just teasing.” Alastair watches me fondly, sipping the tea his assistant, John, brings to his desk.

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised. We all have to retire at some point. Even workaholics like you, eventually.”

“Well, yes. But you’re still...”

“Young?” Alastair finishes for me. He laughs again, shaking his head. “One of the things I love most about you is that you’re so funny without meaning to be. Are you telling me you didn’t see this coming?”

“Of course not. You didn’t exactly give us any warning.”

Alastair waves his hand dismissively. “Well. I’m telling you now. In fact, you’re the first person to find out. I’m announcing my retirement officially at the end of the week.”

I resist the urge to chew my nails, but I can’t help feeling anxious. New management could change everything. I’m comfortable here in part because Alastair is British and has a laid-back management style. He moved here over two decades ago with his first wife, a wealthy American, and stayed here even after his divorce. He has been a very easy and kind boss. He basically gives me the run of my office. I’m able to do things my own way. If he leaves, what else will change?

“So what does this mean for us?” I ask. “And why are you telling me?”

“I’ll get to that in a moment. I actually have a favor to ask.”

“Anything you want,” I tell him, and I mean it. Alastair made me what I am today. He took a chance on me, and I wouldn’t have gotten this far without him. I will happily do anything he asks.

“I’m telling you first because you are responsible. I know you carry a lot of the workload, possibly more than me. I’m not embarrassed to say that I’ve had very little involvement in this company, because I’m lazy. It’s true, you can’t deny it. A bit of a womanizer, too. I started this business trying to bring dating into the information age. I never thought it would be the success it is now, top three in the field. It’s a lot in part thanks to you, Alex.”

My lips twitch a little. “That’s okay. You’ve been a great boss. Two marriages, two divorces, two sons to look after, plus...well, you’re charismatic. We can’t deny your presence is required at every red carpet event ever thrown in this city.”

Alastair laughs a little louder than necessary, slapping his hand down on his desk. “True, true. Well, I admit I’ve grown—my character has matured—along with this business. And I’ve always seen you as my little protégée I think you could help run this joint someday. But of course, there’s someone else set to inherit by default.”

I know he’s speaking of his sons. I know his eldest is some hotshot at a media company and that Kit is the party boy, that he’d been off in Thailand or somewhere for three years.

“William’s got his own empire to run,” he begins, as if reading my mind. “And Kit...he was in Thailand for a while. But it’s time he learned the meaning of hard work. Or at least work.”

He leans back. “Kit has absolutely zero experience, but I don’t see that as an issue, to be honest. When you came to me you were inexperienced as well, and look how far you’ve come? Kit...” He frowns as though considering how to phrase it. “The issue lies in his personality. He’s not cut out for company life as of yet. Kit’s just like his old dad at his age—lazy, unfocused, immature. It runs in our blood, I’m afraid. And his mother didn’t do much to improve our bloodline, I might add.”

Everyone knows Alastair married his second wife, some sort of stripper he met on a trip to London, only because she got pregnant with Kit. She was a party girl and Alastair gave her the boot pretty quick.

“But the thing is, Kit’s still young. He’s not set in his ways like me. I think with some guidance, he could be good at this whole thing. He seems keen on taking over, anyway.”

Of course he is, I think to myself. Let’s be honest, what guy wouldn’t want to be in charge of a multibillion-dollar company with hundreds of employees?

“He’s smart as a whip, Alex,” my boss continues, eyebrows drawn as if sensing my reluctance. “He’s cool as a cucumber, too. He could excel here. I’m determined that he’ll be of some use. I couldn’t bear it if he turned out to be a failure and brought shame to the family name. He has so much potential.”

I chew on my lip to squash my growing discomfort. The idea of someone so inexperienced in charge of me doesn’t appeal in the slightest. But what can I do? I need to suck it up and keep hustling, like I always do. This job is everything to me.

“So what can I do to help you feel more at ease with this...transition?” I ask him.

Alastair chuckles. “Straight down to business as always. Well, in truth, Kit could use a mentor, but he would never accept that. He doesn’t like to be told what to do. While he gets settled, I’m still going to flit in and out to keep an eye on him. But I can’t be around all the time. I want you to guide him.”

Guide him.

Guide that hot, sexy, womanizing playboy who’s about to start playing the boss? Worse than that...my boss? My stomach clutches at the prospect.

“Why so silent now, Alex? My little prodigy, always with something to say, has no words for me?” He raises his brows. “Remember, you just promised you’d do anything for me.”

I sigh, quietly admitting with a smile, “I shot myself in the foot there, didn’t I?”

“I suppose you did.” He smiles back.

I swallow the lump of nerves in my throat. I know that I don’t have a lot of choice but to comply. But I know boys like Kit. They’re cocky. They probably did well at school, breezing through exams easily with minimum effort. They feel ready to take on the world, but they never want to put in the work because they’re not used to it.

I’m radically different. Preferring studies to parties. My parents were workaholic perfectionists with little time for me, and it’s in my DNA to be a workaholic perfectionist, too.

Work was, and still is, my parents’ religion. To the point we talk by phone only on Christmas and birthdays—and mostly, about work. All I have is my little sister, Helena, whom I’ve endeavored to put through the best college thanks to—once again—my hard work. She’s in her second semester at Stanford and she and I are both very proud of that.

My parents have always believed that hard workers aren’t born that way, they are made. They’ve given Helena and me very little financial help since we finished high school. They think it’s formative. But I think that Helena, who is smart as a whip and hopes for a career in technology, deserves the best college education, too.

That’s why this job is so important to me. Accomplishing my own dreams is helping me give my sister the same opportunity with hers.

A man like Kit would never know a thing about sacrificing for someone else. A boy, who’s clearly enjoyed the good life and all the pleasures to be had before work even came into the picture. Babysitting him sounds complicated and that’s not what I studied so hard for. I just don’t like this idea at all.

I don’t have time for lazy boys!

Unless my job depends on it, of course.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” I ask Alastair in an effort to grant his last request.

“Just be a guide to him. Once he trusts you, he might see how hard you work and want to follow in your footsteps. Watch him, teach him and...report to me.”

“What is it that you want me to report?”

“How he’s doing. His inheritance will hang in the balance. I want to be sure my boy is deserving of it. And I’m hoping, to be honest, that with you as inspiration he will be even more adept at this than I am.”

I clasp my fingers together tightly in my lap to contain my feeling of dread. I’d hate bearing the burden of being his son’s new judge, but I love Cupid’s Arrow too much to let it fall into the wrong hands, too. “And if my report is not...what you hoped it would be?” I ask.

“Then you help him change that. For the good of the company.” After dropping that bomb on my lap, Alastair stands. “Let me call him in.”

“Alastair, wait—” The idea of seeing Kit Walker again while I’m still getting my bearings doesn’t sit too well with me yet.

Alastair is already at the door, summoning his playboy son through his assistant. “John, call my son in, will you?”

I’m on my feet and within two minutes, there’s a triple rap on the door. It’s light and casual—and Kit doesn’t even wait for Alastair to invite him in. The door swings open—and yes.

Alastair’s youngest son is still the hottest man I’ve ever seen.

Alastair is back behind his desk. “Come in, Kit. Alex and I were just discussing you and Thailand.”

Kit leans his shoulder against the doorframe and slides his gaze to me. “Of course you were,” he croons in that soft British accent.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“So, Alex,” he says as he moves farther into the office and heads around his father’s desk, “you ever been out of Chicago?”

“I go by Alexandra. Or Ms. Croft,” I say all of a sudden, tipping my chin back haughtily.

Alastair laughs, and Kit raises his brows. “Ah well. Miss Croft,” he murmurs, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Any other instructions for me before I take charge here behind this...very...desk?” He raps his knuckles on it and inspects it, pretending to be impressed as if he had never seen one before.

Is he making fun of me? Did he overhear us, or is it simply that he’s smarter than he looks and knows what his father was up to from the beginning?

I bristle a little. Almost wanting to warn him. Yes. Watch your back! This place is for people who value work and don’t throw time away like you do your girls! But I don’t say that.

Still, emboldened by what Alastair has just requested of me, I say, “Only that your father has always trusted me to do what’s best for my team—I expect the same courtesy from you, Mr. Walker.”

“Oh. I go by Kit.” His lips begin to curve upward. “And I’ll do my best to grant you as much freedom as my father does, Miss Croft.” He smiles completely now; a drop-dead gorgeous smile perfectly suited to that drop-dead gorgeous face.

I know he’s playing with me. And I start to suspect there is more to this boy than just a pretty face—like Alastair said, he has intelligence, pride and obviously a keen sixth sense. And I can’t help but feel my reaction to Kit’s smile deep in my gut.

God help me. It’s going to be a long day. A long month. Worse...a long year, if the bastard stays. I smile tightly in return and nod my head. “Well then, I’ll be ready. Now, am I excused? Some of us need to get back to work.” I try to say that playfully, though Alastair knows I’m a workaholic and rarely make room for chitchat at work. He nods and I head out. Back straight, shoulders rigid, as if I’m not acutely aware of Kit Walker’s eyes on me as I leave.

“Is he not the most gorgeous—” Angela, one of the most boisterous members of my design team, purrs the moment I reach my floor.

“Get back to work,” I snap. Everyone looks up from what they’re doing.

I head to my private office in the back and exhale, wondering why that sexy, coddled playboy pushed buttons I was never really aware of before. Until now.

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