Chapter 4 Provoke the Boss

Claire's POV

A hundred and fifty dollars. That's what I'd spent on a man I'd mistaken for a high-end escort. Now, he was my new CEO. The universe clearly had a cruel sense of humor.

What a cosmic joke. My mind reeled, replaying my audacious-no, insane-words from that morning.

I told him his skills weren't good enough, and I wanted him to sell for a lower price.

Oh God, why couldn't I have just kept my mouth shut?

If he recognized me, would he fire me on the spot? Panic clawed at my throat. I couldn't lose this job. My mother's escalating medical bills and my sister's college tuition were tethered to my income.

Breathe, Claire, breathe! I commanded myself, trying to steady my racing heart. Despite my best efforts, a tremor ran through my legs, echoing the turmoil inside.

I stole a quick, careful glance towards the imposing figure at the head of the conference table. He was absorbed in conversation with an executive, his gaze far from my corner. A sliver of relief, icy and fleeting, washed over me. I ducked my head, letting my long hair curtain half my face, a pathetic attempt at camouflage.

My only hope was that Lucius Watson, the notoriously aloof CEO of the Watson Group, hadn't looked closely enough to remember me. The conference room was packed, a sea of unfamiliar faces. Surely, I was just another anonymous employee in his periphery.

Every second felt like an eternity as I sat rigid in my chair, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin.

As the meeting finally drew to a close, my anxieties seemed to have been unwarranted. Lucius appeared utterly oblivious to my presence. He never once looked my way. I let out a silent, shaky sigh of relief.

The moment people began to disperse, I seized my chance, melting into the crowd, my head still down, a frantic escape artist.

The first thing I did back at my desk was grab Joey. She'd always been my confidante.

Joey's eyes widened, then her jaw went slack. "Holy shit, Claire! You slept with him? Are you positive it was Lucius Watson? The Lucius Watson?"

"Stop it!" I hissed, grabbing her arm. "This isn't funny. Yes, it was him! I'm terrified he'll remember me, seek revenge, and fire me. I have Mom and Betty depending on me. I can't lose this job!" My voice was a frantic whisper.

Joey gave me a meaningful look. "Girl, do you know how many women in this city would kill to be in your position right now?"

I scoffed. "I couldn't care less about other women's wishes. I regret everything about last night. Why did I go to that bar to drown my sorrows? Why did I let myself be drawn to a stranger with such intense eyes? Why did I hand him a hundred and fifty dollars, thinking he was some high-end call boy? And God help me, why did I criticize his performance?"

Joey shrugged. "Don't panic so much. He probably didn't even notice you. Guys like that have a different woman every weekend."

Before she could finish her flimsy reassurance, our manager's booming voice sliced through the office hum. "Claire! Mr. Watson wants to see you in his office. Now."

My heart plummeted straight to my stomach. This was it. I was about to be unemployed.

I walked towards his opulent corner office on leaden feet. When I stepped inside, he was there, not in a crumpled hotel bathrobe, but in a perfectly tailored suit that screamed power and sophistication.

Yesterday, he was a nameless escort. Today, my new boss.

Life, it seemed, was determined to keep me on my toes.

He was looking through documents, his head bowed, as if he hadn't noticed my arrival. I found myself staring at his thick blond hair, noting how it seemed to catch the harsh office light in a wild, untamed way.

Taking a deep, bracing breath, I forced a pleasant, professional tone. "Mr. Watson? You wanted to see me?"

He raised his head, and I quickly plastered on my most polished, innocent smile. I knew better than to provoke him further.

Lucius's eyes, those green eyes, raked over me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. His expression was utterly devoid of warmth, filled with a chilling disdain.

Under his unnerving scrutiny, I felt profoundly uncomfortable, like a small, exposed creature caught in the gaze of a dangerous predator. I struggled to maintain my composure.

Finally, he set down his pen, leaning back in his enormous leather chair. His voice was cold, cutting. "I didn't realize our female employees were quite so. liberal."

His proud, sneering tone stung, hitting a nerve. My carefully constructed calm fractured.

Before I could stop myself, the words flew out. "It seems your private life is equally rich, Mr. Watson."

We're almost the same, aren't we? If I'm a dissolute woman, then you're a high-priced playboy! the unspoken thought screamed in my head.

Lucius's expression turned ugly. A dark cloud descended over his features.

Great. I'd just angered my boss again.

I quickly looked down, a wave of regret washing over me, despite the defiant satisfaction bubbling beneath. My impulsiveness might just cost me my job at the Watson Group.

He took a step forward, too close now.

Lucius reached into the inner pocket of his blazer. My heart stilled, a sudden, terrifying premonition.

He pulled out a thick leather wallet, opened it with deliberate slowness, and withdrew three bills-two fifties, a crisp hundred. He placed them neatly on the gleaming desk between us.

"Your performance," he said, his voice disturbingly calm, "was worth a little more than I thought."

I stared at the money, a searing heat building in my throat. My chest heaved with suppressed fury. I wanted to scream, to lash out. But then, the image of Mom's hospital bills, Betty's tuition, flashed through my mind. I clamped down on my anger with Herculean effort.

Stay calm, Claire.

I stepped forward, plucked the money from the desk with two fingers, and tucked it into my purse with a practiced, elegant movement.

I met his gaze, forcing a brittle smile. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Watson."

Then I turned on my heel and walked out, never letting him see the tremor in my hands, the wild rage in my eyes.

I made it to the elevator before my legs buckled slightly. I pressed the button with far too much force.

Inside, as the elevator descended, I gripped the railing, cold fury threading through my veins, tightening around my heart.

I wouldn't cry. Not for him.

Not ever again.

When I got back to my desk, Joey was there immediately, buzzing with anticipation.

"What did the boss want?" she asked, eyes wide with interest.

I thought for a moment, crafting my response. "He just wanted to tell me something about. his job."

"And what else?" Joey pressed, leaning closer.

"Nothing else," I said, a little too quickly, unwilling to share the humiliating truth.

"That's boring," Joey sighed, deflating.

"Did you want to hear something more interesting?" I asked lightly, a subtle challenge in my tone.

Joey smiled, tossing her hair back. "I thought maybe he'd developed a taste for. regular humans like you! And he was looking to continue the romantic relationship."

"I'm not interested," I said, perhaps too emphatically. Regular humans? What a strange turn of phrase. Aren't we all human? Though, given Lucius Watson's billions, I supposed he did belong to an entirely different social class.

"Not interested? Claire, if others knew you slept with Lucius Watson, how many people would be green with envy?" Joey whispered, gazing at his picture, which was now making the rounds on her phone.

His striking face had indeed spread like wildfire among the female employees. The way they devoured his image made me profoundly uneasy.

"Please, keep this a secret. I don't want people talking," I said, my voice low and earnest.

Joey, ever curious, leaned in again. "Seriously, though, what was it like? Having sex with him?"

I tried to appear calm, nonchalant. "Just. normal. You can try it yourself if you don't believe me."

"I wish I could," Joey said with a sigh, before heading back to her desk.

To be honest, I was so drunk that night, much of it was a blur. I vaguely remembered his bright, unsettling eyes, the hard planes of his body, and that strange, animalistic sound he made. That was about it.

A small, traitorous part of me wished I could remember more. But it didn't matter now. It would never happen again, and I certainly didn't want it to. Lucius Watson was just my boss.

My phone rang. It was Susan.

I knew she was calling to push me about Uncle John's party.

I couldn't help but take a deep breath, steeling myself for the next inevitable confrontation.