The Billionaire and His Boss. Patricia Kay
Believe me, he’s not my type.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“I told you. He’s too good-looking.” The truth was, Alex looked like he belonged in her sisters’ crowd. The country club, golf and tennis crowd. The Armani crowd. The kind of men P.J. had wanted to get away from.
“Tina says he looks like Colin Firth.”
“Who the hell is Colin Firth?” Irritation made P.J.’s voice increase in volume.
Anna looked at her as if she’d suddenly grown two heads. “You mean there’s a female alive on this earth who doesn’t know Colin Firth?” Her voice was laced with astonishment.
“What is he? A movie star? You know I don’t pay attention to those people.” In P.J.’s opinion, movie stars were only a cut above rock stars, and P.J. considered them the armpit of the universe, with no redeeming social value whatsoever.
Anna sighed. “Honey, Colin Firth is way more than a movie star. He’s the most gorgeous guy to come along in years. He’s British and has one of those upper-crust accents that is sooo sexy. He also has dreamy dark eyes, he’s tall, and he lives in a villa in Tuscany.” She sighed again. “Unfortunately, he’s married.”
P.J. rolled her eyes. Honestly, even sensible Anna could be an airhead at times. “Alex Noble isn’t that good-looking.”
“No? Well, with your ideas about men, I don’t think I can trust your judgment, P.J. I think I’ll have to have a look myself.”
P.J. abruptly stood and began clearing up her trash. “Oh, for God’s sake. Come and drool all over him. I certainly don’t care. Just make sure you don’t distract him from his work.”
“Somebody certainly is testy all of a sudden,” Anna said, giving P.J. a knowing look.
P.J. knew she’d overreacted, and for the life of her, she didn’t know why. All she knew was, she was heartily sick of the subject of Alex Noble.
Alex was beat.
He’d thought he was in great physical shape. Hell, he worked out three times a week at the gym and played tennis at least three times a week. But he had a soft job at the foundation, mainly sitting on his butt. And today, for the first time since he’d spent a summer building houses with Habitat for Humanity, he’d done physical labor, with lots of stretching, kneeling and lifting. He’d used muscles he hadn’t even known he had. So by the time four o’clock rolled around, he was more than ready to leave.
Other than that, he was satisfied with how the day had gone. He found it interesting seeing how many orders came through during his shift and how much work was involved in filling them and getting the merchandise shipped out. Although before he started this job, he’d studied the numbers associated with HuntCom and its myriad arms, actually seeing all the products they manufactured and sold was a real eye-opener.
Whether you worshiped at the altar of money and power or not, you had to admire what Harry had accomplished. It wasn’t as if he’d come from money. Just the opposite, in fact. Alex’s Hunt grandparents had been squarely middle-class. His grandfather Hunt owned a small hardware store; his grandmother had been a stay-at-home mom.
And Harry had been a too-tall, just-this-side-of-weird, geek.
Yet look what he’d accomplished. He’d developed ground-breaking software that had changed the personal computer industry practically overnight and followed that by designing cutting edge hardware that was as good as or better than anything else on the market.
Now he was worth billions.
And he employed thousands of people.
Alex had met a couple of dozen of those people today. Among them several attractive women. Two of those women seemed promising as far as his bride hunt went—one worked in the mail room, one was a picker from a different quad—although he’d have to know more about both of them before he could make any kind of decision. After all, he was talking about the future mother of his children.
Too bad P.J. Kincaid didn’t have a more agreeable personality, because she was definitely the most intriguing of the women he’d met. But she hadn’t even made his short list. He didn’t have time to win over someone who obviously didn’t like him.
She’d certainly made no secret of her feelings. In fact, as the day wore on, she’d seemed to be more suspicious of him rather than less, even though he’d worked hard and given her no cause to look at him the way she had.
What was her problem, anyway?
Why did she seem to always be watching him?
Alex knew she’d asked Rick about him, because he’d seen the two of them talking and Rick kept glancing Alex’s way the whole time. In some ways, this amused Alex, because Rick was obviously not the cloak-and-dagger type. In other ways, it didn’t amuse Alex at all.
Alex didn’t think P.J. could possibly know who he was or why he was there, so why was she acting so weird? Was it because she hadn’t hired him? Did she resent the fact he’d been presented to her as a fait accompli? Alex grimaced. He’d bet that was it. She felt he’d been pushed on her. Well, in that case, maybe he could change her mind about him.
Question was, did he want to?
The minute P.J. closed her apartment door behind her, she began stripping off her clothes. Today more than any other, she felt the need to get outside and work the kinks out. She could hardly wait to put on her running clothes and shoes and hit the park.
A scant ten minutes later, she was in her bright-blue Miata convertible—top down, breeze ruffling her hair—and heading for the Jansen River and the park that had been built along its banks. Washington State looked beautiful in late summer, she thought, with its riot of colorful flowers and lush green lawns. People complained about all the rain they got, but without the rain, the landscape would be as brown as California’s. As she drove along, idly enjoying the scenery, her mind once again drifted to her new employee.
Just as Anna had predicted, throughout the afternoon, at least half a dozen women from different departments at the distribution center had come, on the flimsiest of excuses, to check out Alex Noble.
One of them, Carrie Wancheck, a twenty-one-year-old who worked in payroll, hadn’t even bothered with an excuse. She’d grinned at P.J., saying in a stage whisper, “I just wanted to see the hunk everyone’s talking about.”
“He’s too old for you,” P.J. had snapped.
Carrie’s smile was knowing. “I like older men. They’re usually the best lovers.”
P.J. had had to force herself not to say anything else, because she realized it might sound as if she were jealous or something. Jealous! Nothing could be farther from the truth. She had absolutely no interest in Alex Noble. None. Zero. Nada. But she knew how the women at the center could be. If you said you weren’t interested in someone, they immediately thought you were lying. Especially when the man in question was as attractive as Alex Noble.
So she’d kept quiet and silently fumed instead. Dammit. She needed this kind of distraction in her department like she needed a hole in the head. If they were going to palm off a new employee, the least they could have done was make him homely.
And the women in her own department were the worst of all! Even Ruby, who was only nineteen and a year out of high school, had hung around Alex to the point where P.J. had to say something to her. P.J. had wanted to add that she didn’t think a man like Alex would be interested in a kid with purple spiked hair, five earrings on each ear, and a rose tattoo down her right arm, but despite her appearance, Ruby was a nice kid, and P.J. liked her, so she just sighed and told Ruby to get back to work, then watched the girl skate away.
She was so engrossed in thinking about Alex Noble and the disruption he’d caused today that she almost passed up the entrance to the park.
Hitting the brakes, she managed to slow down in time