Rendezvous in the Clouds: Billionaire Boss Office Romance (Hunter's Catch) by Fiona Wells Read Free Book Online Page B

office for the rest of the day. I’ll have my driver take us to Daniel for lunch tomorrow at noon.”
     
    ***
     
    “Daniel? Your new boss is taking you to Daniel tomorrow, Sarah?” my mother had her hands to her face. She peered over her reading glasses with a shocked look, as though I had just told her I’d won the lottery.
     
    “Yeah, I don’t even know what that is. I thought it was like the name of his personal chef or something,” I said as I set out plates for dinner. Mom clucked her tongue and shook her head.”
     
    “Darling,” she said, her voice high with excitement. “It’s the fanciest restaurant in
    New York!”
     
    “ Well,” I replied, carrying the pan of leftover meatloaf to the table. “He is uber rich. It makes sense that he eats at expensive places.” I was doing my best to sound casual, but really I was dying inside. After her second heart attack, my mom had to quit her waitress job and take it easy. I didn’t want her to get too worked up about Nick Hunter taking me to lunch, even if I was ready to dance across every rooftop in Brooklyn about it.
     
    “Sweetheart, I read about your boss and saw him on TV. He’s gorgeous!” I smiled as I dropped a dollop of mashed potatoes on her plate.
     
    “He is a good looking guy,” I said, inwardly rolling my eyes at my understatement of the century. “Mom, come and eat.” She shuffled to the table and sat with a heavy groan.
     
    “Is it your ankles?” I said. She patted my hand. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I just want to hear more about Mr. Hunter. He’s single!”
     
    “Mom, I’m not sleeping with my boss, okay? The most important thing about this promotion is that we can live better and you can see the doctor more often.”
     
    My mother widened her eyes. “Who said anything about you sleeping with him? I just think he would be crazy not to fall in love with a brilliant, beautiful girl like you!”
     
    I smiled and squeezed her hand. “Thanks, mom, I appreciate it. I think he’s got his pick of super models and starlets to choose from for company, though.” She chuckled warmly and picked up her fork.
     
    “Nobody’s too good for my baby,” she said. I looked down at my plate. I knew my mom wasn’t trying to give me false hope; even the thought of Nick Hunter going for an ordinary girl like me was absurd. His idea of a date was taking the Oscar winner for best actress to the Vanity Fair after-party, or sailing to the Riviera for the weekend on his own yacht.
     
    My weekend fun time was filling up the inflatable pool in the backyard and inviting my friends over for pizza and beer because it was cheaper than going out. But who knows? They say money can’t buy happiness and I’ve had some really great times with my pals, splashing our feet in the water as we sang with the radio and…oh, who am I kidding. Nick Hunter would rather drop dead first than hang out in a Brooklyn backyard drinking domestic beer. He was as far out of my reach as the sun.
     
    “I think you should wear your green dress,” she said, after chewing and swallowing. “It shows off your legs.”
     
    “Mom!”
     
    She giggled and shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt.” I shook my head but laughed right along with her. It would be foolish of me to dress up all sexy for a meeting with my boss, just as it was stupid to harbor any kind of crush on him. But he did give me a look twice that made my heart race and the elastic on my panties loosen. It was wishful thinking though. That was probably the stare he shot to all ladies from eighteen to eighty, part of the Nick Hunter charm offensive. I had to straighten up and think right.
     
    To lose my heart would be a shame, but to lose this job would be the worst thing imaginable.
     
    ***
     
    Of course I was late for my first day working for Nick Hunter. Mercury was in retrograde all over the place and, it seemed, especially for me. My alarm didn’t go off, the subways were delayed and it wasn’t