I Won’t Be In On Monday (The Annoying Hot Bosses Club #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

J uniper

Dear Mr. Parker,

I would like to inform you that I am your assistant and not your servant, maid, wanna-be girlfriend...

I stare at the bright screen and press delete rapidly. That is not the way I want to start this email. I think for a few moments while staring at the stack of packed manila files on my desk. There must have been over a hundred files with color-coded stickers on the various pages, beckoning for me to go through them.

There’s also a half cup of black coffee in my Best Daughter Ever mug, which I made without milk or sugar because I’m a masochist. Well, not in a kinky way. I’m just trying to be health-conscious so that I can lose twenty-five pounds and have glowing skin. However, I hate black coffee, so most of the beverage is still in the cup, cold and stale, and as such, I’m extremely tired. And when I’m tired, I’m irritated.

My fingers hover over the keyboard, and I start typing again.

Dear Mr. Parker,

I would like to inform you of the job duties on the official paperwork I signed in the HR office when I accepted the position as your legal assistant. Just in case you aren’t aware, those duties don’t include arranging your dates, picking up your dry-cleaning, being your…

I pause as I reread what I’ve written. I’m not sure whether my email comes off as passive-aggressive or if I should even care. I need to be blunt with Remington Parker. The man is insufferable, and I’m not going to let him treat me like a doormat just because he’s my boss.

I can feel myself fuming inside as I think about the list of chores he’s given me in the last few weeks. The fact that I haven’t said anything to him is on me, but I’m no longer going to just nod my head dutifully, like some perfect little housemaid or Stepford wife.

I picture Remington’s face as he reads my email. His brown eyes will crinkle in humor because I know he won’t take me seriously. Then he’ll run his long, tan fingers through his dark, silky hair and chuckle his deep, guttural roar that I would recognize in the dark.

Remington Parker is my boss, the man I love to hate, the man I love to dream about, but he is also the man who inspires characters in the books I write late at night. You'd think Remington inspired the hero of my story because he is one of the best-looking men I've ever seen in my life. But unfortunately for him, he's also one of the most infuriating, obnoxious, arrogant pricks I've ever met. And as such, he is a villain in my latest story. The anti-hero to end all anti-heroes.

Not that he would care that I’d made him a villain more hateful than Voldemort in my latest romantasy book. I wouldn’t tell him, though. It’s not like he asks me about my life outside of work. God forbid he ask if I have any interests other than doing whatever he wants whenever he wants.

It’s obvious to me that he only sees me as some sort of wallflower, there to do his bidding. To him, I’m a robot. I doubt he’s even noticed that I'm a woman. I am just Juniper Hardman, his legal assistant, the invisible pixie making magic happen.I felt that my job had somehow become more personal assistant than anything else though.

"Juniper, did you send out the roses yet?" The man himself stops by my desk, and I look up quickly, my face going red as I slam the computer screen down. I nod slightly at his question.

Say something, Juniper. Tell him to order his own roses.

Order your own roses, asshole.

“I believe so,” I mumble, and the inner warrior in me screams. Sometimes I hate having an avoidant personality.

His dark eyes stare down at me, and there's a smile on his face as if he is happy to see me, but I know he gives that smile to everyone he comes into contact with. It's the Remington “I'm too cool for school” Parker smile. It makes you feel like a million dollars, when really, you’re just another link in a never-ending chain.

The thing about Remington is that he’s engaging, witty, and charismatic, and if you didn't know him well enough, you'd think he really cared about you. But the only person Remy really cares about is himself.

"I placed orders for all three of your..." I pause and attempt not to roll my eyes. "Women friends." I nod as he grins. "A dozen roses will be sent to each one of them. Was there anything else you needed me to do before I leave for the day?"

"Yeah, I was wondering if you could see about getting me a reservation for dinner at La Beautiful on Third Avenue next Wednesday evening around 7:00 p.m."

"La Beautiful is one of the most popular restaurants in the city," I say. "It's very unlikely that they have any open reservations for the next few months."

"Ah, but I'm sure you can use your magic and get me a reservation, Juniper." His eyes sparkle, and I wonder how his parents ever said no to him. He’s got such a cute face.

“I don’t have any magic, sir, and I’m not really sure how you expect me to...”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but Penelope Ridiculo is in town.” He pauses as if waiting for me to gawk in admiration. I stare at him blankly, and he frowns. "You do know Penelope Ridiculo, right?"

"I'm sorry, I don't." Her name sounds ridiculous, though , I think to myself and hold in a snort.

“She’s the Italian actress that took Hollywood by storm last year,” he says, by way of explanation. “She was in that movie, Night Transportation, with—what's his name? Benji Flames."

"I cannot say that I've heard of it or seen it." I shrug. I know Benji Flames and vaguely remember he’s been in a movie with some beautiful actress who had been Miss Universe the year before, but I’m not going to tell Remington I remember that.

He blinks. "You should get out more, Juniper."

"Yes. Well, I seem to always be at work, making appointments for my boss," I say, and he bursts out laughing as if I'm joking.

"Oh, you're funny. You should have your boyfriend or someone take you out to see some movies." He pauses. "Or your girlfriend. Whatever floats your boat."

I press my lips together and nod, but inside, I'm seething. He doesn't even know me well enough to know whether I am gay or straight. I'm offended. Not by the fact that he thinks I could be a lesbian, but by the fact that he doesn't know, and he doesn't even care to actually inquire so that he can get an answer. I am annoyed with this man. "I'll try my best, sir. Is there anything else?"

"No," he says, walking to his office. "I'm going to be heading out in a little bit. I have a partners’ meeting with Max and Gabe. Maybe Kingston, too. He is supposed to be taking Skye to Sweden or something in the next couple of days, so he may not make it."

"Switzerland," I correct him.

He blinks. "What?"

"They're going to Switzerland because she told him she liked Swiss chocolate, and he wanted to get her Swiss chocolate in Switzerland as a special treat."

"Oh, yeah," He shakes his head. "Craziness. I never thought I’d see the day where Kingston Chase acted like a pussycat for a woman.”

“I guess that’s because he loves her.”

“I guess.” He wrinkles his nose. “I can’t believe both Max and Kingston are in relationships now.” He shudders. “Oh, well. At least I know that Gabe and I are heading up the solidly single front in the office.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Though, technically, you have multiple girlfriends."

"I have zero girlfriends, Juniper. Zero. Remember that." He taps his nose and holds up his fingers in a 0 shape. “I have zero girlfriends.”

"But I just sent three ladies roses."

"Three friends who I occasionally grab lunch or drinks or dinners with." He grins. "I'm a bachelor, a man of the millennium. I cannot focus on just one woman." He pauses and glances down at me, a furrow in his brows. "Wait, does that make me sound like a dick?"

I want to say yes, but I don't. Instead, I just shake my head and grab a handful of files and look down. He grins at me again and runs his fingers through his short dark hair, then straightens his power red tie against his crisp white shirt, while I try not to admire his physique.

I know that he works out every day. I manage his calendar, and I know that he works out every morning for an hour to an hour and a half, and on the weekends, he works out twice a day. He certainly has the physique to prove it. Unlike me, who works out for a week at the beginning of every new year.

Remington Parker is the picture of good shape. His arms are buff, his chest is ripped, his legs are muscular, and he's more handsome than sin. He really does have it all, and he can get any woman he wants. I don't know why that makes me annoyed. It’s not like I want him. But if I did, it's not like he would ever want me, even if he wasn't as ridiculously handsome and built as he was. No men look at me. I'm a bit of a plain Jane. I've been that way my entire life, and, for the most part, I'm okay with it.

Or at least I was. I had my books. My dad. Strawberry ice cream. Now, if I’m being honest with myself, I want more.

And hopefully, soon, I will have more. My coworkers and friends, Lila and Skye, have agreed to give me a makeover, and they are positive that it will change my life. Though I’m not sure I fully believe them.

For once in my life, I want a man to look at me differently. To really see me and find me attractive. Just once, I don’t want to be invisible or the friend they talk to when they're trying to chat up my prettier friends.

I hear my phone beep and look down at the screen and it's my dad. I look over at Remington. "Hey, do you mind if I take this? It's my father, and..."

"Oh, go ahead. Feel free to leave early today, as well. I know you’ve had a long week.” He sounds proud of himself for being generous, though I can see the nervous energy in his stance.

“Thank you,” I say, looking at my watch. It's 6:00 p.m. on Friday evening. Technically, I should have left at 5:00 p.m. I don't know if he's being facetious or if he actually thinks he's being charming and kind, but I'm not going to say anything.

I watch as he enters his office and closes the door, and I pick up the phone. “Hey, Dad, what's going on?"

"There you are. I was wondering if you'd like to come to dinner this evening."

"Oh, I’m going to go for drinks with my friend Lila, but..."

"Oh," he says in a disappointed tone. "I was hoping that you'd come home and try my lasagna."

"Dad, I've had your lasagna many times," I say, trying not to be mean. My father has raised me himself since I was six, after my mother passed away in a car accident. He'd been the best father a girl could have ever asked for, but unfortunately, he knew nothing about the ways of women. He knew nothing about clothing, fashion, makeup, or hair, and he’d never dated another woman since my mother’s death. At least not that I knew of. So I’d never had a mother figure in my life.

“Dad, what about I come over tomorrow?” I suggest, wanting to make him happy.

“That sounds like a plan. Do you want to play Scrabble and then go for a walk in the park?” he asks, and I smile into the phone. My dad loves to play Scrabble, and almost every time we hang out, this is our regular routine. You would think I'd get bored of it, but I still enjoy spending time with my father. Maybe it's because I don't actually have a boyfriend to do anything else with. I do hang out with my girlfriends, but most of them are now in relationships and don’t have as much time.

"I'll come over tomorrow around noon," I say.

"Sounds good. I can't wait to see you, Juniper."

"I can't wait to see you, too, Dad. Love you."

"Love you more."

We hang up the phone, and I sit back and peek back into Remy's office. He's typing something, looking serious, and I try not to stare at him too long. The fact of the matter is I have a little crush on Remington Parker. I shouldn't because he doesn't know I exist, other than as his assistant, but I do. There's just something about the way that he carries himself and the way that he laughs that always makes my heart pitter-patter. I close down my laptop, grab my handbag, and stand up. I walk over to the door and give it a light tap and open it when Remy nods. "I’m off now," I say. "Nothing else you want me to do before I go?"

"I don't suppose you..." He pauses. “No, I’m good. Thank you for all that you do, Juniper.” He grins, and I frown at him in surprise. This was the first time he'd ever thanked me for anything.

"Are you okay?" I ask, and he looks at me in surprise now.

"Yeah. Why are you asking?"

"Because you've never thanked me for the work that I do, and..."

"Oh, I know, but I was just thinking to myself that I'm very lucky to have been blessed with an assistant like you. Someone that comes in, does her work, doesn't chitchat, doesn't waste time, and doesn't flirt or try and get me into bed. You don't make the job awkward. I wanted you to know that I appreciate that, Juniper. It's not often that one finds an assistant as capable as you are."

"Well, thank you, sir," I say. Though, I can't say that I'm actually happy about his comments. Who wants to be referred to as capable? I'd much rather be referred to as sexy or beautiful, but obviously, Remington does not feel that way about me. "Okay, well, I'm off now," I say. "Have a great evening."

"You, too." He grins, but the smile drops immediately as he looks back down at his laptop. I watch his face pale as I walk out the door, but I don’t say anything. I head to the elevator and ignore my worry for Remy. I need to concentrate on my own feelings of inadequacy working for the man.

I hate being invisible. I hate being the woman no one notices. I hate that I have no love. I pick up my phone and call Lila. She answers on the second ring.

"Hey, what's up? You're not there already, are you? I'm so sorry. I'm running a little bit late. Max got me..." She pauses. "Sorry. Are you there yet?"

"No, I'm just leaving the office now."

"Oh, perfect. It will take you, what? Fifteen minutes to get there?"

"Yeah. It's a fifteen-minute walk for me to get to the bar."

"Cool. I should be there in twenty minutes. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be late."

"It's okay. I'll get us a table. Text me what you want to drink and if you want any appetizers, and I’ll order those, as well."

"You're the best, Juniper.”

"You think so?" I say, laughing slightly, ready for a night of fun.

"Yeah. Everything okay?"

"So, you know how you and Skye keep offering to give me a makeover, but it hasn't really happened yet?"

"Yeah, of course.”

"Can we make it happen soon?"

"You want to do it tonight?" she asks excitedly. "We don't have to go to the bar. I can have you come over and..."

"Maybe not tonight," I say quickly. "I'm not prepared for tonight, but maybe next week."

"Okay, we can do it tomorrow if you want."

"I would, but I already promised my dad that I would go over to play Scrabble, and we'll probably eat leftover lasagna," I say, and she laughs.

"That sounds like a fun Saturday."

"Yeah, it's okay." I lower my voice as I exit the building. "If I'm honest, Lila, I want a boyfriend. I want love. I want more in my life, and I don't know that I'm going to get it looking like Mrs. Doubtfire's older sister."

She bursts out laughing then. "Juniper, you are a beautiful woman. You do not look like Mrs. Doubtfire."

"Thank you, Lila. I love you, and you are a great friend, but you're the only one who sees my beauty, other than my dad."

"Skye does, as well,” she says.

“You, Skye, and my dad," I say. "I just want a guy to notice me. I just want to go on a date. Shit, I'm fed up with being a virgin. I want a love story. I want an orgasm,” I say loudly, glad I’m in the elevator alone.

"Every guy's not going to give you an orgasm, trust me. But I'm confident that we can get you looking so beautiful that you can have any guy you want."

"I mean, I love you for saying that, but I sincerely doubt that I'll be able to get any guy I want even after the makeover, but a hot and sweet guy would be nice."

"I feel that. Let's talk about it more when I get to the bar. Okay?"

"Sounds good," I say. "See you soon, Lila."

"See you soon, Juniper."

We hang up, and I smile as I make my way down the street. I pass two Wall Street-looking guys who are talking loudly about trying to get some tonight. I try to make eye contact with the one closer to me so I can show him my disapproval, but he doesn't even glance my way. "Invisible," I mutter under my breath and take a deep breath. Sometimes, it really sucks, but other times, it feels like a blessing.