A Bossy Roommate (Next Door to a Billionaire #2)

3. Eden

3

EDEN

A fter parking my Kiki in the large parking garage, I grab my purse. With excitement and first-day jitters, I get out of my car and follow the other people headed inside. The garage elevator takes us to the main lobby, and when I step out, the sight renders me speechless.

The atrium is huge . I’ve never seen an entry like this outside of a museum or church. With lofty ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows along one side, I’m blown away by the stunning view. So much so that I have to remind myself to keep walking and stop acknowledging the constant soreness between my legs. An imposing receptionist desk dominates the center of the room, manned by a woman with a tight low bun of honey hair who looks like she means business.

When I approach, she offers me a bright smile. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Eden Ryan. It’s my first day, and I’m supposed to meet Gretchen…” The last name of the woman I’m supposed to ask for suddenly slips my mind. “Er…sorry, I forgot her last name. She’s the head administrative assistant.”

Noticing me flounder, the elegant receptionist chuckles, peering at me over the rim of her glasses. “I got you.”

“Oh, okay, thank you.”

“Why don’t you have a seat over there, and I’ll call Gretchen.” She gestures to the left. “Welcome to Legacy Builders.”

“Thank you,” I say graciously. “I’m excited to be here.”

I take a seat on one of the empty chairs, eyes wide as I observe the hustle and bustle around me. Even with it being early in the morning, the place is buzzing—just like the city around us. Any lingering nervousness is buried beneath my excitement. This is exactly what I’ve been looking for: the kind of fast-paced challenge I’ve been dreaming about. I’m sitting for less than a minute before a woman about ten years older than me, dressed in a form-fitting pantsuit, approaches me. Her makeup is flawless, and her blonde hair is pulled into a twisted knot like mine. The round red frames of her glasses complement the welcoming and approachable nature of her face and match her bright hair color perfectly.

“Eden?” she asks.

I smile and stand, extending my hand in greeting. “Yes, that’s me. You must be Gretchen.”

Gretchen shakes my hand. “I am. I’ll be handling your training for the next week. I’m the administrative assistant to Mr. Huxley, the Executive Branch Manager-slash-CFO, as well as the supervisor to the other admin assistants.”

“Wow, impressive.” Her boss holds significant decision-making power here in NYC, positioned just below the CEO in the hierarchy.

“Thanks, I like to think so too.” She chuckles and motions for me to follow her past the receptionist. “I’ve been here a long time. Stick with me and I’ll show you the ropes.”

I like her already. She has a cool confidence about her and a warmth that instantly puts me at ease. “Great. I have experience in the position, but this is definitely a bigger business than I’m used to.” I don’t get into any detail about how my admin experience stems from working for my sister’s small mom-and-pop operation.

“Legacy Builders is one of the most prestigious construction firms in the city,” Gretchen explains while we walk. “My boss, Mr. Huxley, is one of the senior partners. He’s the only one who works out of the New York office. The CEO sits in Connecticut, and the others run the offices in Massachusetts and Vermont.” Gretchen leads me to another set of elevators, and we step on as soon as the doors open. “So, is this your first time in New York?” she asks while the elevator climbs.

“Yes, it is. I just got in late last night.”

“Well, I know it can be overwhelming. I’ve been here for years, and it still can be daunting at times. If you need anything, work related or otherwise, I’m right here.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

The elevator stops at the 12th floor, and I follow Gretchen through a set of glass double doors. “In my interview with Human Resources I was told I was going to be the assistant to Mr. Bancroft,” I explain. “I take it he’s not one of the partners?”

“No, Mr. Bancroft isn’t a partner yet. But he honestly should be. He’s smart, and as our COO, he plays a key role in the company’s strategic direction and handles most of the major jobs that come through.” She leans in close and whispers, “Not to mention he’s quite easy on the eyes.”

I laugh softly. “At least that’ll be something pleasing to look at.”

She gives me a “Girl, you have no idea” smile.

We’ll be best friends, I can already feel it.

Gretchen shows me the important office spaces, like the break room and bathroom. She also explains that Legacy owns the building from the 8th to the 12th floor and that I will rarely, if ever, have to visit any other floor than the one we’re on.

“Simple enough to follow,” she says.

“And zero danger of getting lost—hopefully,” I joke, and her laughter joins with mine.

“That’s the other assistants. I’ll introduce you later.” Gretchen waves back to two women as we pass through conference rooms and the sales floor. “You’ll soon notice we assistants always stick together. If something comes up, we try to cover each other’s shifts to keep things running smoothly. But otherwise, we exclusively work for the managers we’re assigned to. This will be your desk…”

We step through a modern glass door. It’s sleek and framed with brushed steel.

The sign reads:

Carter Bancroft

Chief Operating Officer

Huh, Carter?

Just like the first name of my one-night stand.

Except his last name was Donovan. Weird and also a twisted little joke from the universe. I hope that name isn’t going to haunt me from now on like the memories of his touch will.

The glass door leads into a small lobby separate from everything else. In the middle of the room is a large mahogany half-moon desk. It doesn’t face the open doorway, but rather a closed wooden door and three modern and comfortable-looking chairs.

“Whoa,” I say when we approach. “This is the biggest desk I’ve ever worked at. And I get this space to myself?”

Gretchen nods with a smile. “It’s great, isn’t it? Please sit down. It gives you some semblance of privacy, which you’ll need when managing Mr. Bancroft’s appointments and meetings. His office is right through these doors.” Gretchen points to the big, closed mahogany double doors across from us, then leans in and lowers her voice. “He likes things done in a very specific way, so you need to be on your toes…believe it or not, he’s still using a small black book to keep track of his appointments, just like in the old ages. Luckily, the board stepped in and compelled him to embrace the efficiency of our new cutting-edge system…but I’ll let him tell you himself.”

“When will I get to meet him?” I sit down at the desk, sinking back into the high, comfortable office chair. There’s a brand-new computer with two wide-screen monitors and a sleek black phone.

Gretchen adjusts her glasses and checks her tablet for the time. “Mr. Bancroft is in a staff meeting with the other managers right now, but they should be wrapping up soon. So, anyway, here is a folder with your login for the computer and the applications.”

She spends the next few minutes walking me through the basics and showing me where to pull up the training videos I need to review. Being well versed in computers, familiarizing myself with all the programs I have to access is a breeze. Once she’s satisfied I have retained everything, she gives me a warm smile.

“You’re going to do great,” she says. “Honestly, once you get the hang of things and know what he expects from you, it’s fairly straightforward.”

“Thanks for showing me the ropes.”

“My pleasure. If you need help”—she points out the glass door to another one right across the hall—“I’m right through there. You can always wave me over. Or try the new in-house instant messenger, and I’ll pop by.”

“Ahem.”

I hear a man clear his throat behind Gretchen.

She turns around. “Oh! Good morning, Mr. Bancroft. I was just getting your new assistant acquainted with our system.”

The man steps around Gretchen.

I get up.

When I see the face of the well-groomed man, I nearly pass out.

Tall.

Six foot two.

Dark hair.

It’s him . It’s my one-night stand from last night! Carter .

Except, he told me his last name was Donovan, not Bancroft.

Shit, holy shit . I blink, twice, trying to keep my expression neutral and hide the utter surprise I feel, or worse, trying not to laugh at the coincidence.

My eyes connect with his.

Those whiskey-brown eyes that had looked at me with heat when he’d thrust into me last night are now hardened and cold.

He steps up to the desk and extends his hand. “Carter Bancroft,” he says formally.

He glowers at me, his eyes never leaving my face.

I nod, wiping my sweaty hand on my skirt before I shake his. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I know what he—my new boss—looks like naked. What his thick dick looks like fully erect. Exactly how girthy, and long, and perfectly filling it is.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bancroft ,” I say, forcing myself not to add “again” at the end of the sentence. What I can’t stop myself from, is emphasizing his last name. I have to remind him that he blatantly lied to me, and I know it.

The second our hands touch, more flashbacks from the previous night rush through my head. His fingers intertwined with mine as he hovered above me, pressing my hands into the bed. His jaw pressed against my cheek while he whispered those dirty, dirty words into my ear. His tongue playing with my clit, brushing over it, edging me to the brink of insanity. His hard cock filling me completely, utterly, perfectly —now that feeling is burned into my memory forever—and honestly, I’m still feeling him inside me physically, right now— and I have the hardest time not thinking about how jaw-dropping his thrusts felt.

Nor can I stop thinking about how that sinful dirty mouth of his fell open when he came.

I know what my boss’s coming face looks like, I realize.

How his eyes intensified.

How they bore into me.

How he growled when he came, with a double “ahh.” “ Ahh-ahhh. ”

How his cock pulsed.

How he thrust three more times.

Eden, think about something else , I scold myself. Don’t think about the fact that less than twelve hours ago, he made you come harder than any man has before, and as a sign of appreciation, you then rode your new boss’s cock like a mechanical bull before he flipped you over and made you come again.

“Remind me of your name again,” he says.

Come again? Bitch. He did not .

Ouch. Gotta say, that one stings.

He isn’t playing. That line definitely takes the wind out of my sails (and my mind off the mechanical bull). “Eden Ryan,” I answer, trying to sound unaffected and professional. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“ For me,” he corrects, glowering at me.

It takes me a blink to process what he just said.

Good lord, what a bosshole .

Do I really want to work for him?

This can only go downhill from here. But I need the job. Desperately. In fact, judging by his cold expression, I have to wonder if he even wants me to work for him. It seems more like he’s contemplating when exactly to break it to me that I won’t be working with him nor for him.

He turns his intense gaze on Gretchen. “Anything else? I’d like to speak with my new assistant.”

Gretchen shifts her gaze between the two of us, almost as if she senses something is off. But she’s smart enough not to point it out. “I am done, sir,” she immediately retracts. “I’ll be at my desk should either of you need anything.”

I don’t even get a chance to thank her before she hurries out of the room. As soon as the glass door closes behind her, Carter turns that stern gaze on me.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Well,” I say, trying to break the awkward taciturnity, but choosing my next words wisely. “This is…unexpected.”

“Let’s talk in my office. Now.”

Without waiting for me to say anything else, he steps away and storms into his office. I follow him, in a less-than-stormy way. In fact, I follow him in a paralyzing “shit’s gonna go down” way. I have no idea how he’s going to react to this new development. This bitch needs the job and can’t stand the thought of getting fired before she has even started. Though, I don’t think he technically can fire me when I haven’t done anything wrong on the job . Or can he?

A drop of nervous sweat runs down my spine. I watch him make his way behind his desk, all grumpy and stern, obviously getting ready to fire me.

“Shut the door,” he orders, in that same impossible growl he used when telling me to behave, and that I looked so pretty while taking every inch of his cock.

I do as he demands.

As soon as the door clicks shut and I turn back around, I launch into a speech. “Before you say anything else, I swear I can convince you not to fire me. For one thing, you need an assistant, and I’m the perfect candidate for the job. I’m loyal, smart, driven, and desper…dependable, which is why HR hired me on the spot. Second, yesterday, you weren’t technically my boss yet, so I don’t think it really breaks any kind of ethical or company code. Third?—”

“Eden,” Carter growls sharply, holding up his hand to cut me off. “Stop talking. Sit.”

I clamp my hands together while I sink onto the chair across from his desk. I thought my desk was huge. His is almost twice as big, and when he sits behind it, power and control radiate off him. It makes me think of how in charge he is all the time, just like last night, when he’d told me I was going to sleep with him before I’d even had a chance to process, and how later in the bar, he told me he was going to fuck me until I came and passed out from coming so hard before I had a chance to process that either.

Honestly, still processing that . Not going to think about how he then held true to his word.

My new boss watches me like a hawk before he speaks again, his voice more stern and deep than before. “Obviously, it goes without saying that I didn’t realize who you were when we met last night.”

Obviously, it goes without saying…?

“Obviously,” I say, echoing the word back at him, annoyed at his choice of statement. “Given you told me your last name was Donovan…and you couldn’t even remember my name.”

He has the decency to wince, but it’s slight, and I wouldn’t have caught it if I wasn’t staring intently at his annoyingly handsome face, and those annoyingly full lips that had been wrapped around my clit half the night.

“That wasn’t a lie,” he says simply. “Bancroft is my last name. Donovan is my middle name.”

“Noted. So, what happens now?”

“What happens now is, you go back to your desk and go through your training. We move forward as if nothing has changed.” He rests his folded hands on the desk. “We also keep what happened between us to ourselves. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

“You and me both,” I agree.

“No gossip in my department. Clear?”

“Trust me, it’s hard enough being the new girl without people thinking I did that with my boss to get the job. It’s best we forget it ever happened. It won’t happen again.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he says, turning to face his computer. “You’re dismissed.”

“Of course, Mr. Bancroft.”

On shaky legs, relieved I survived and wasn’t fired, I leave his office. Once out, I close the mahogany door behind me and lean against it for a moment.

Oh. My. God. What have I gotten myself into?