Just a Bit Bossy by Alessandra Hazard
Chapter 9
The HR department did have a replacement lined up, apparently.
Connor McDonough was an extremely capable PA with years of experience working for executives of big companies.
Frankly, he made Nate feel awkward and self-conscious about his own, very limited job experience. It was kind of difficult to teach your replacement when that replacement was far more capable at this job than you were.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Connor said, smiling his perfect little smile as he gently took the notebook from Nate and followed Ferrara into the conference room.
Nate was left standing there, looking at the door that closed in his face.
Okay.
It was fine.
It wasn’t like he even liked this job or something. Connor-the-perfect-PA could totally keep acting like he could do everything better than Nate. He probably really could. It shouldn’t have bothered him. And it didn’t. Not at all. Nate was fucking ecstatic. It was nice to just chill for a while at his desk, doing nothing productive.
Nate was playing solitaire when Ferrara and Connor finally returned from the meeting.
He probably shouldn’t have taken such pleasure from seeing the hurried, nervous look on Connor’s face as he timidly followed their boss. The boss in question exuded irritation in tangible waves, his jaw clenched and his face like stone. For once, Satan’s insufferable attitude was very welcome. It made Nate feel less useless when Ferrara fixed him with a heavy look out of black eyes and motioned to his office with his head.
Violently quashing the urge to follow the silent order, Nate didn’t move. He smiled. “I’m sure your new assistant can assist you, sir.”
A muscle twitched in Ferrara’s temple. For a moment, he said nothing, just looking at Nate.
Then, that familiar glint appeared in his eyes. “Come to think of it, you’re right. Connor.”
Before Nate could process that, Connor followed Ferrara into his office. The door closed with a thud.
Nate stared at it, feeling… he didn’t know what. Had the asshole really meant that he was going to use Connor that way?
But then again, why wouldn’t he? It was apparently part of the job description now. What difference did it make for Ferrara? A mouth was a mouth. It wasn’t like Ferrara was attracted to Nate—or other men, for that matter. It was just stress relief for him, nothing more.
It was still utterly disgusting. Forcing a guy who hadn’t even started working for him officially to suck his cock… it was… it was reprehensible. Despicable. Now poor Connor would feel obligated to do it to get the job. Nate obviously couldn’t allow that to happen. It was sexual harassment!
He got to his feet and strode to the door. He pushed it, but it didn’t budge.
It was locked.
Nate stared at it, indignation making him see red. Satan had never bothered to lock the door for Nate’s sake, but apparently Connor-the-perfect-PA deserved that consideration.
Clenching his jaw, Nate knocked sharply.
For a long, excruciating moment no one answered. But then again, who would answer? Connor was probably too busy sucking Ferrara’s thick cock, slurping all over it like a whore—
The door opened.
“Yes?” Connor said.
Nate narrowed his eyes, studying him suspiciously. He didn’t seem out of breath. And his lips didn’t look red and well-used like Nate’s own lips often did after sucking Ferrara’s cock.
“Why was the door locked?” he said testily.
Connor blinked. “I locked it for Mr. Ferrara’s privacy while he changed. That’s what any good PA would do.”
Nate curled his fingers into a fist. “Right,” he said, looking over Connor’s shoulder.
Ferrara’s dark eyes met his. He really was changing, his white shirt half-unbuttoned, revealing his muscular chest and stomach.
Nate pursed his lips and turned away.
He was fuming as he returned to his desk, feeling annoyed and angry for no damn reason.
Fuck, he couldn’t wait for everything to be over.
He hated this, hated Ferrara and his arrogant face and his stupid cock and his insufferable attitude.
He couldn’t wait to be rid of him.
***
If there was one good thing about Connor’s presence, it was that he was always there. He followed Nate everywhere when he wasn’t tripping over his feet to be helpful and show that he was the better PA. That meant that there literally was no opportunity for Nate to perform… his unofficial responsibilities.
Speaking plainly, he hadn’t sucked or touched his boss’s cock in nine days. Not that he was counting or anything. It was just… weird.
Nate sometimes entertained the thought that Ferrara’s increasingly foul mood over the week might have had something to do with not having his cock sucked any time he wanted, but it was unlikely that he didn’t get laid by someone else. Nate wouldn’t know: Connor was now the one in possession of Ferrara’s work phone and he might have been arranging the boss’s booty calls every day for all Nate knew. Nate didn’t ask. Something always kept him from asking.
Before Nate knew it, it was his last day at the Caldwell Group and he was saying his goodbyes to his co-workers. Former co-workers now.
“I wish you’d stay,” Brenda said, hugging him. “You can manage him so much better than the other assistants he’s had.”
“Me, managing him?” Nate said with a laugh. “Is that a joke?”
Brenda shook her head with a rueful smile. “You weren’t here. You can’t see the difference between how he was with them and you.”
The subject was starting to make him uncomfortable, so Nate changed it and went to say his goodbyes to the guys in other departments. Saying goodbye felt a little bittersweet. He may not have wanted this job, but it was the first real job he’d ever had and he’d made a lot of friends.
By the time he finished, it was evening and there was only one thing left.
He returned to the top floor.
Connor was seated at Nate’s—his own desk.
Ignoring the weirdly uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, Nate smiled. “I’m leaving. He’s in, right?”
Connor nodded, glancing at the closed door. “He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood,” he said timidly. All the confidence and smugness he had exuded last week was now gone. Now he seemed as scared of Ferrara as Brenda was.
It shouldn’t have pleased Nate.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he said with a shrug and entered the office without knocking.
He closed the door and stared at the man seated behind the desk.
Raffaele Ferrara. Satan in a Dolce & Gabbana suit. The horrible boss who had worked Nate like a personal slave for the past half a year.
He was free of him now.
Free.
The thought was… strange. It didn’t seem real. He didn’t feel the satisfaction, the closure he had expected to feel.
When Ferrara lifted his gaze from his computer, they just looked at each other in silence.
Nate moistened his lips with his tongue. “I’m leaving.”
The other man said nothing, his expression unreadable.
Swallowing, Nate crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have the recommendation letter?”
Ferrara nodded, glancing at the piece of paper on his desk.
Nate walked over and picked it up. He read it with some suspicion, but it was a perfectly good recommendation letter. A great one, even.
Lifting his gaze, Nate peered at Ferrara suspiciously. “What about removing the microtransactions from Rangers 5?”
Ferrara shrugged. “I ordered the monetization department to tone them down and make the MTX mostly cosmetic. Removing them completely isn’t feasible—the game was designed around them.”
“But you promised,” Nate said. “You shouldn’t have bet on something you can’t do.”
“I didn’t promise it. I humored you.” A strange expression passed over Ferrara’s face. “Frankly, I expected you to quit within a few weeks. I didn’t know how annoyingly stubborn you were.”
Nate scoffed, but it wasn’t hard to believe, knowing Ferrara’s arrogance. He always thought he was right.
“Fine,” he said sullenly. “As long as they remove the invasive pay-to-win stuff, I can live with cosmetic microtransactions.”
Ferrara said nothing, just gazing at him with the same unreadable look.
Nate wet his lips again. “I guess this is it, then?”
He didn’t know what he expected, but it was oddly disappointing when Ferrara just nodded and turned back to his computer.
Right.
All right.
This was fine.
“Bye,” Nate said bitingly, feeling annoyed and maybe even a little upset at being dismissed as if he were nothing. Unimportant. Replaceable. Just a minor bug under Raffaele Ferrara’s expensive shoe. He probably wouldn’t even remember Nate’s name in a month. He didn’t know why that thought bothered him so much.
The bastard said nothing, still looking at his computer.
Nate slammed the door shut on his way out.