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

5. Eden

5

EDEN

I desperately need a break. When I get back to my desk, I receive an instant message from Gretchen.

Gretchen:

Are you ready for lunch? Been waiting for you.

Thank goodness.

Me:

Absolutely! Let’s go.

I grab my purse and meet her in the hall. She’s wearing a sympathetic expression behind her red-framed glasses. I don’t even have to say anything for her to know what’s going through my mind.

“He is a lot,” she says once we’re out of earshot of my office. “But, again, he’s a total hottie.”

“Yeah, well, looks can only get you so far.”

“He doesn’t give a very good first impression, but you’ll get used to him.”

This is the second time she’s mentioned “getting used to him.” People like Carter speak the way they want and do what they want because no one tells them otherwise. I’m not about to be that person. Also, she has no idea that I have a vastly different first impression of him than she did.

“I can handle it,” I say. “Besides, I’m only here for six months. I’ve worked for stricter people much longer.” Me talking about my sister like that is a clear sign of frustration, not because I don’t love her. I love her dearly. When I’d started working at the firm she’d taken over from Dad, she had been strict, even difficult at times—it was as if she’d been preparing me for this crazy venture my whole life without knowing it—but she had at least taught me the importance of words like “please” and “thank you.”

Gretchen gives me a sympathetic look and slides her arm around mine. “Come on. There’s a little café about five minutes from here that me and the girls like to go to. My treat since it’s your first day.”

Gretchen has just become my new best friend. We take a brief walk to a small café where the other two assistants have already saved us a table. They wave us over when we come in.

“Eden, this is Jaylin and Lexi. Ladies, I’d like you to meet Eden,” Gretchen introduces us as we join their table. “She’s Mr. Bancroft’s assistant for the next six months.” Gretchen clarifies that Jaylin and Lexi serve as assistants to the two vice presidents here in NYC at Legacy Builders. Jaylin assists the VP of Human Resources, while Lexi supports the VP of Marketing.

Both women say hi and we shake hands. Jaylin is a spunky, plus or minus forty-year-old African American woman, with her hair slicked back from her face into a natural elegant ponytail. She’s enjoying a large Cool Wrap with a tall glass of iced tea. Lexi is just shy of thirty with a thin face, classic rectangular glasses, high cheekbones and straight brown hair that falls midway down her back. In front of her is a veggie salad with a bottle of seltzer water.

Gretchen turns to me. “What can I get you?”

I eye Jaylin’s plate. “That Cool Wrap looks good.”

Jaylin gives me a thumbs-up. “It’s today’s lunch special. It even has avocado.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely that. Thank you, Gretchen. Oh, and an ice water.”

Gretchen smiles. “Coming right up.” She looks at the other women. “Don’t spill the tea until I’m back.”

“Welcome, Eden.” Lexi gives me a cheeky smile as soon as Gretchen wanders off. “Happy to have you join our little group. Too bad Gwen couldn’t be here.”

“Gwen is our friendly front desk manager you met this morning,” Jaylin explains.

“Maybe she’ll join us later. She’s always too busy with who knows what. We don’t typically eat out for lunch, but we figured we’d make your first day a special one.”

“Thanks, I’m excited to be here.” Something about both women immediately puts me at ease. I’m not one to be anxious, but being in a new city surrounded by new people is enough to rattle anyone. And yet, the ladies give off nothing but positive, chill vibes. They seem genuinely happy to have me here.

“So, Mr. Bancroft, huh?” Jaylin asks in a cool, smooth voice, leaning forward. She waggles her eyebrows. “What do you think?”

Oh, we’re in way too public a place for me to tell these women exactly what I think of Mr. Bancroft. Also, I don’t want to risk unleashing a juicy tidbit that could morph into a wild rumor, eventually reaching my boss’s ears and ending up in a hilarious “let’s fire her” rendition. So, instead, I answer, “He’s certainly something.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Lexi grins. “We all had to fill in over the last couple of weeks, and he’s very… demanding .”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Jaylin says and sips her iced tea. She leans in and whispers, “Bosshole.” She returns to her former position. “Not my words, girls. That’s what his former assistant called him.”

Lexi laughs. “As in boss asshole,” she explains to me, and I make an “ah-ha” expression, as if I’m not familiar with the term and calling him a “Bosshole” would never have crossed my mind.

“It definitely has a ring to it,” I agree.

“But a hot bosshole.” Lexi makes swoon-eyes at us, then adjusts her glasses. “Like, stupidly hot. Panty-wetting hot. I swear, the first time I met him, I lost my train of thought, and then I had to go change my underwear.”

We laugh. She’s not wrong. Been there, done that. Last night I, too, had lost my train of thought when I’d seen that man sitting in the corner of the ice cream shop. He stood out like a sore thumb amid the comfortable place with his black helmet, tattooed arms, that sad black coffee in front of him, and that intense gaze of his when our eyes met. The whole panty-wetting thing came later. Like two seconds later. The image of him underneath me with those intense eyes, guiding me with his rough controlling hands and his controlling cock, groaning and watching me ride him, circling and teasing my clit with his thumb as I did, start flashing in front of me.

Luckily, Gretchen joins the table with our drinks, distracting me from taking any trips to forbidden territory.

“Food should be out in a minute,” Gretchen announces, handing me my ice water. “What are we talking about?”

I quickly grab the glass and take a huge sip of the cold drink. Aaah. Better. Much better. “Thank you. We are talking about?—”

“The hotness of Eden’s boss,” Lexi jumps in before I can finish my sentence.

“And about wet panties,” Jaylin adds.

“Oh, that .” Gretchen nods as if it’s a topic they’ve discussed (and possibly experienced) in real life a million times.

All innocently, with my halo shining brighter than the brightest star, I say, “I see that everyone feels the same way about him.”

“He pulls off the ‘dress shirt and tie but with cool jeans’ look perfectly.” Lexi lets out a wistful sigh, her slender shoulder rising and falling in a dreamy swoon. “But on special occasions, you know, for important presentations, board meetings and such, you’ll see him in his tailored three-piece suit. So hot. It’s a company rule. Rumor has it, he hides tattoos under his suit. I doubt it.” She fans herself with her hand. “Well, a girl can dream at least. Too bad we’ll never know the truth. Gossip is really, really bad around here. People talk, and talk, and talk, it’s crazy.”

“Yeah, crazy ,” Jaylin teases, eyeing her.

“Why he’s single, we’ll never know.” Gretchen adjusts a blonde strand of hair and clips it back. “After all, he’s one of NYC’s top five most eligible billionaire bachelors. I’ve been working here a long time and have seen countless women throw themselves at him. But he simply doesn’t take notice.”

Jaylin swallows, dabbing the corners of her mouth with her paper napkin. “I think it speaks of his professionalism to keep his private life a mystery. Besides, a boss checking out his employees or, for that matter, ogling any women in front of his workers— so creepy . He’s simply focused on his career. Becoming partner.”

“I, for my part, think he simply has impossibly high standards,” Lexi says.

Gretchen nods in agreement. “Sky-high standards, true, but his sense of humor? MIA.”

Ignoring the two women, Jaylin faces me. “The good thing is, you won’t have to worry about him getting too touchy-feely with you.”

Right .

“Okay, well, aside from him, what else can you tell me about Legacy?” I ask, eager to change the subject.

One of the servers brings over my and Gretchen’s food while we talk about the company, and the lunch gets better from there. It’s nice to be with new people who don’t know I was a small-town gal, who accidentally managed to sleep with one of NYC’s most eligible billionaires, despite his impossibly high standards. With a confidence boost of one trillion-gazillion, I enjoy my break with my new friends. It’s exactly the kind of pick-me-up I need to help me get through the rest of the day.

After we return to the company, I go back to my desk where I find a slew of emails from Carter, outlining tasks he wants me to tackle before the end of the day. He’s tied up with meetings for the rest of the afternoon, which is a godsend. I’m happy to throw myself into my work, especially without having to train my traitorous mind to stop looking and thinking about him.

Five o’clock rolls around, and I’m ready to call it a day. Overall, I’m glad about the way the assignments worked out. The tasks themselves came naturally to me and being able to jump right in without delay felt good. I’m ready to get to my new place and have a nice quiet evening getting settled.

After saying goodnight to my new coworkers, I retrieve Kiki from the parking garage. The old lady now sports a shiny new parking sticker, courtesy of HR. Singing to the music and plugging in my apartment’s address on my phone’s GPS, I’m finally on my way to my new home, but not before stopping at a bakery to buy a box of cupcakes called “Raspberry Euphoria Delights” (delectable cupcakes adorned with a velvety buttercream frosting, delicately handcrafted using a luscious raspberry puree) and stuffing it in one of my bags. I’m already anticipating the delight of indulging in my cherished celebratory treat, a personal reward I never fail to bestow upon myself for reaching significant milestones.

The building I pull up to is enormous . Down in the garage level, I can immediately tell by the other cars in the lot that it’s much fancier than I expected. Every car around my spot is sleek and expensive. Amid the shiny Ferrari fellas, my little Kiki will be gasping in disbelief all night. I even catch sight of a couple of big motorcycles carefully tucked away under tarps. Between no rent, manageable bills, and the nice chunk of money I’ll be making at Legacy, I’ll be able to get my life together in no time.

I grab my bags and two rolling suitcases, grateful to be the only one in the elevator because it means no one will see me as the silly bag lady struggling to carry all her belongings in one trip.

Ping .

The elevator doors open on my level, the 6th. It’s nice and quiet when I step out. It also smells good. The hallway is spacious, and there are only two apartments. One on the left, number fourteen, and one on the right, number fifteen. Fifteen, that one’s mine. The thought of having only one neighbor to deal with is exciting. Back in Maine, my tiny old apartment shared paper-thin walls with neighbors all around me. Between having active kids, playing their TV loudly (at least I hoped the screaming was TV), and shouting at their barking dogs all the time, my hopes are high that my new neighbor will be the quiet, pleasant kind.

As I struggle to find my keys, my bag bumps against the door.

It suddenly opens.

“Oh!” The unexpected sight of two light-brown eyes staring at me scares the crap out of me, and I end up jumping in surprise and almost dropping the stuff I’m still carrying.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry to startle you,” says the old woman in a British accent, opening the door fully. She wears a comfortable-looking cashmere sweater and clean slacks. With a well-put-together appearance, her eyes sparkle with curiosity. “Can I help you at all?” Her accent is a little slice of uniqueness that makes her even more endearing. I wonder if she lived in England for some time or if she grew up in a family with British heritage.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have the wrong apartment,” I say, my hands too full to reach my phone to double-check. “I’m looking for apartment fifteen.”

“This is the one, love!”

My stomach drops. “Oh, are you the…?”

“That’s right, I reside in this very place. Hattie Hutton is the name I go by. And who might you be?”

I stand there for a second, holding the bags that contain my life. “I’m Eden, Eden Ryan, and I was supposed to be staying here for the next six months.”

Hattie’s eyes light up. “Oh, wonderful! Good old Lewis mentioned there would be a young lady keeping the place cozy until they found someone to rent it full time.”

Relief washes over me. “Yup, that’s me.”

“It’s lovely to meet you. I’m sure you’ll find the place quite delightful. The views are absolutely gorgeous, and it’s a pretty peaceful place to live. As long as you’re not bothered by the chilly man next door, that is.”

“Chilly man next door?”

“Yes, over in flat fourteen.” She gestures to the apartment to the left. “Ooh, an unbelievably sour soul. Not a friendly bone in his body. Detests animals. Never spares a moment for a friendly chat. Never smiles, you know.”

Oh, he sounds awful. So much for having a pleasant neighbor. “I’m sorry to hear that…”

“It would be wisest to avoid him,” she adds.

“Well…no problem. I don’t plan on doing much socializing anyway. Are you just collecting a few things before heading out?”

“Oh, no, dear, I shall be here for the next two weeks.”

My stomach drops through the floor and falls all the way down into the garage. “But…Lewis told me you would be out by the tenth.”

Hattie huffs and puts her hands on her hips. “Gosh, that man! Bless his heart, he means no harm, but he’s forever muddling up dates. It’s the twenty-fourth, dear. I’ll be off on the twenty-fourth, at ten in the morning. Precisely when the movers arrive.”

Shit. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? Even if it had been her fault, not even in my wildest dreams would I try to kick a sweet old lady out of her apartment so I could use it. Worse, I don’t have enough money to put toward a motel room.

“Oh…okay.” My arms are shaking and it finally occurs to me to put my bags down. “I…have no idea what I’m going to do.”

“Fret not, my dear,” Hattie says. “You’re very welcome to stay here with me.”

“Oh, really?” How kind! Oh, my God. Of course I’ll take her offer. It’s incredibly sweet, and the fact she would open her home to a complete stranger at the drop of a hat tells me all I need to know about her.

Besides, spending time with a sweet older lady will be good. I miss my sister, and having a motherly figure around sounds comforting.

She opens her door farther and steps aside, waving me in.

All of a sudden, my nose starts to twitch, and my throat becomes itchy. This can only mean one thing. I look down at the floor to see three fat orange tabby cats winding their way around Hattie’s legs.

Immediately, I turn away to sneeze. It happens again, and a third time before I force myself to take a few steps away from her.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, sniffling. I’ve been allergic to cats since I was small, and just seeing the three animals makes my body start to break out in hives.

“Are you feeling quite all right?” Hattie asks with concern. She tries to step forward, but I put my hand out to gently stop her.

“Cat hair,” I say while sniffling. “I’m highly allergic to cat hair…”

“Oh goodness, I do apologize.” Hattie nudges the cats with her foot and closes the door a bit. “You three, shoo, off you go! Back inside, go on, back inside.”

This is such a mess. I’m broke and homeless, standing in the middle of the hallway of an expensive NYC apartment with my allergies trying to kill me. What am I supposed to do? I don’t relish the thought of spending the next two weeks in my car, but by the looks of things, that’s exactly where I’m going to end up.

Ping.

The sound of the elevator doors opening comes from behind me, and I turn around to find myself facing the person I least expected to see.

Carter. Did he follow me?

“You?” I ask, wiping my watering eyes with the back of my hand. “What are you doing here?”

For the third time in less than twenty-four hours, this man has appeared in my life out of nowhere. Grrreat . This is exactly what I need right now, for my new boss that I slept with to see me surrounded by numerous big bags, homeless, hopeless, with a red face and nose.

“Oh, Mr. Bancroft, how fortunate that you’re back.” Hattie waves. “It appears there’s been a bit of a mix-up.”

Carter’s eyes bore into mine, their intensity as strong as they were last night, just before he unbuckled his belt. I have no idea what is headed my way.