The Boss’s Bargain

CHAPTER 2

I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, twisting my hair up into a sleek bun. My heart was hammering against my ribs so hard I thought it might actually bruise.

"Okay, Chloe. You got this," I whispered to my reflection.

I had spent the last three hours prepping. I had ironed my lucky pencil skirt—navy blue, professional, serious. I had paired it with a crisp white blouse that I'd bought for interviews but never actually worn. I even practiced my answers to standard interview questions in the shower.

*Where do you see yourself in five years?*

*What are your greatest strengths?*

*Tell me about a time you overcame a challenge.*

I looked professional. I looked like a college graduate ready to take on the corporate world. The only remnant of last night was the small, purple bruise on the side of my neck, which I had expertly covered with a layer of high-coverage concealer.

Last night felt like a dream now. A hazy, erotic, sweat-soaked dream. Every time I closed my eyes for a second, flashes of Elias would pop into my head. His hands on my hips. His low, gravelly voice in my ear. The way he had looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.

I shook my head. "Stop it, Chloe." He was a stranger. A gorgeous, older stranger who gave me the best night of my life, but a stranger nonetheless. He was probably on a flight back to wherever he lived, or back to his office, forgetting the girl he met in the club. I needed to focus on Mr. Vance. Whoever he was.

I grabbed my portfolio, slipped on my modest black heels, and headed out the door.

The bus ride downtown felt like an eternity. The city was buzzing, everyone rushing to their jobs, their lives, their important meetings. I felt small. I was just another girl with a fresh degree and a desperate need for a paycheck.

When the bus finally lurched to a stop on 5th Street, I stepped off and looked up. The building was a towering structure of glass and steel, reflecting the midday sun. It looked expensive. It looked powerful. It looked terrifying.

I walked into the lobby, the air conditioning instantly chilling my skin. The floor was polished marble, and the lobby was bustling with men and women in sharp suits who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing.

"Can I help you, miss?" the security guard asked, looking up from his desk.

"Yes, I'm here for an interview with Mr. Vance. I'm Chloe Evans."

He checked his computer and nodded, handing me a visitor's pass. "Thirty-second floor. Reception will direct you from there."

I thanked him and stepped into the elevator. As the numbers ticked upward, I practiced my breathing. *In through the nose, out through the mouth.* I could do this. I had the grades. I had the internship experience. I just needed to be confident.

When the doors slid open on the thirty-second floor, I was greeted by a sleek, modern reception area. A young woman with perfect blonde hair sat behind a desk that probably cost more than my tuition.

"Chloe Evans?" she asked before I could even speak.

"Yes, that's me."

"Mr. Vance is expecting you. Go straight down the hall, last door on the left. Good luck."

I walked down the corridor, my heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor. The walls were lined with awards and framed articles about the company's success. It was intimidating, to say the least.

I reached the end of the hall. There was a large, imposing door made of dark mahogany. A small gold plaque read *Elias Vance, CEO*.

I froze.

*Elias.*

My brain did a somersault. It couldn't be. Elias was a common name, right? It was a coincidence. It had to be a coincidence. Maybe Mr. Vance was an eighty-year-old man with a hearing aid. Maybe he was a younger guy with glasses and a receding hairline.

My hand trembled as I reached for the door handle. I took a deep breath, plastered on my best professional smile, and knocked twice before pushing the door open.

"Mr. Vance? I'm Chloe Ev—"

The words died in my throat.

The office was huge, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. Behind the massive desk sat a man. He was looking down at a file, a pen in his hand. He was wearing a charcoal suit that was tailored to perfection, highlighting broad shoulders I knew intimately.

He looked up.

Time stopped.

It was him.

The man from the club. The man from the hotel. The man who had made me scream his name less than twelve hours ago.

It was Mr. Handsome.

The pen in his hand froze mid-air. His dark eyes widened for a fraction of a second, a flicker of shock crossing his features, before his expression smoothed out into something unreadable. He didn't look away. He stared right at me, his gaze intense and piercing, just like it had been last night when he was hovering over me.

I felt the blood drain from my face, then rush back up to my cheeks in a hot, burning wave. I wanted to turn around and run. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

I stood there, frozen in the doorway, clutching my portfolio like a shield.

"Miss Evans," he said.

His voice was the same. That low, rumbling baritone that had whispered dirty things in my ear. But now, it was professional. Controlled. Cool.

"Come in. Sit down."

I forced my legs to move. I walked to the chair in front of his desk on shaky knees and sat down. I placed my portfolio on my lap and squeezed my hands together to stop them from shaking.

"Mr. Vance," I managed to choke out. My voice sounded thin and reedy compared to his.

He leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers in front of his chin. He looked completely composed, completely unruffled. He was the CEO. He was in charge. And I was just the girl who had let him do unspeakable things to her a few hours ago.

"I... I wasn't expecting..." I stammered, then stopped myself. I cleared my throat. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

He ignored my awkwardness. He picked up the file in front of him my resume, I realized.

"The HR speaks very highly of you," Elias said, his eyes scanning the paper. "Saying that you're a hard worker. Top of your class."

"Yes, sir," I said. The word 'sir' slipped out, and I saw his eyes narrow slightly. A ghost of a smirk touched the corner of his mouth, but he suppressed it instantly.

"And you're looking for a position in marketing?"

"Yes. I have experience in digital strategy and brand management from my internship last summer."

He nodded slowly. He closed the file and placed it on the desk. Then, he stood up.

My breath hitched. He was tall. I had forgotten how tall he was. He walked around the desk, leaning back against the edge of it so he was standing right in front of me. His arms crossed over his chest. He was so close I could smell him that same sandalwood and spice cologne that had clung to my skin last night.

"Chloe," he said, dropping the formal tone just a fraction. "Look at me."

I looked up, meeting his eyes. The air in the room felt heavy, charged with electricity. It was the same tension from the bar, but magnified a thousand times. It was forbidden. Dangerous.

"I didn't catch your last name last night," he said, his voice dropping low enough that only I could hear.

I swallowed hard. "I didn't give it."

"A coincidence," he murmured, mostly to himself. "A very... complicated coincidence."

"Mr. Vance, I—"

"Elias," he corrected softly.

"I should go," I whispered, starting to stand up. "I can't work here. This is... this is too weird. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"Sit down."

It wasn't a request. It was a command. The kind of command he had used last night when he told me to spread my legs. My body reacted instinctively, and I sank back into the chair.

He looked down at me, his expression serious. "You need this job. Your father pulled strings to get you this interview. If you walk out now, you have to explain to him why you turned down a position at the biggest firm in the city. And I have to explain to him why his daughter stormed out of my office."

I hadn't thought of that. My dad would ask questions. He would know something was wrong.

"I can't work for you," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "After what we did..."

"What we did was personal," he said, his voice firm. "This is business. I run a multi-million dollar company, Chloe. I don't mix business with pleasure. I didn't know who you were last night. And if i had known you are gonna be my employee things would have been different"

His words stung a little, even if they were rational. *Things would have been different.* Meaning he wouldn't have touched me.

"So, what happens now?" I asked, feeling small.

"We proceed like professionals," he said, pushing off the desk and walking back to his chair. He sat down, opening my file again. "I have a position open for a Junior Marketing Associate. It pays entry-level salary, but the benefits are good. It's hard work. Long hours. You'll be reporting directly to the Head of Marketing, but ultimately, all major decisions come through me."

He looked up at me, his eyes dark. "Can you handle that? Can you separate the man you met last night from the man sitting in this chair?"

I took a deep breath. I needed this job. I needed the money. And despite the mortifying awkwardness, a dark, secret part of me was thrilled. I would get to see him every day? I would get to work in this building, near this man?

I straightened my spine. I could do this. I was an adult. He was an adult. We could be professional.

"Yes," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I can handle it."

Elias studied me for a long moment, his eyes searching my face for any sign of hesitation. Apparently satisfied, he nodded.

"Good. Then you're hired."

"Just like that?" I blinked. "No interview questions? No test?"

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "I saw your resume. HR recommends you. And last night..." He paused, a smirk finally fully forming on his lips. It was a wicked, knowing smirk. "Last night I saw exactly how... dedicated you can be when you want something."

My face burned. I felt the heat rush down my neck. It was inappropriate. It was unprofessional. And God help me, it was hot.

"Mr. Vance," I warned, though there was no real bite to my voice.

"Elias," he corrected again. "At least when we're alone."

"We shouldn't be alone," I said quickly.

"Probably not," he agreed. He stood up again and extended his hand across the desk. "Welcome to the team, Miss Evans."

I looked at his hand. The hand that had touched me, held me, spanked me. I stared at it for a second too long before reaching out and shaking it.

His grip was warm and firm. He didn't let go immediately. Instead, his thumb brushed over my knuckles, a subtle, secret caress.

"I expect you here at 8:00 AM sharp on Monday," he said, his voice low. "Dress appropriately. Professional. But..." His eyes dipped to my blouse, unbuttoning the top button with his gaze. "Keep the heels. I like the heels."

I pulled my hand back like I'd been burned. I stood up, grabbing my portfolio.

"Monday," I repeated breathlessly. "Thank you... Elias."

He sat back down, picking up his pen as if the conversation had never happened. "You can show yourself out."

I turned and walked to the door. My legs were jelly. My heart was racing a mile a minute. I reached the door and put my hand on the handle.

"Chloe?"

I stopped and turned around.

He wasn't looking at his paperwork. He was watching me, his eyes dark and intense.

"Your concealer is wearing off," he said softly.

My hand flew to my neck, covering the spot where the hickey was. I hadn't checked it since this morning.

He smirked, a genuine, amused smile this time. "I marked you. You might want to use a scarf on Monday."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I yanked the door open and hurried out of his office, past the receptionist, and into the elevator. I jabbed the button for the ground floor repeatedly.

As the elevator doors closed, I caught my reflection in the shiny steel panel. My face was flushed, my eyes wide. I looked terrified. But underneath the terror, I saw something else. A spark of excitement.

I had the job. I had a career path.

And I had a boss who knew exactly what I looked like underneath my professional exterior.

I pressed my forehead against the cool metal wall of the elevator and let out a shaky breath.

What had I just gotten myself into?

To be continued……