Entangled To The CEO

—///BILLIONAIRES HOOK UP///—

Tasha’s [POV]

My heart bounced up into my throat when the phone rang.

The product launch had started slow, but the last I heard, the server had crashed.

It was supposed to be good news so many people bought the application that we’d been overwhelmed but it was my responsibility to smooth everything out.

I wasn’t sure I could take one more wrinkle. I pressed down the creases on my pencil skirt and answered the phone.

“Tasha Nichols.” “Ms. Nichols, I’m Amy. I’m the assistant the temp agency sent over?”

Her nervous voice ended everything on a high, shaky note. I ground my teeth. Another junior executive had poached my assistant.

Over the last two years, a pattern had emerged: I trained my assistants, made them capable and efficient, and then one of my male counterparts would entice them away.

Now it seemed I had a new, temporary assistant every few weeks.

“Yes, Amy, is there something you need? I’m not due into the office for another thirty minutes,” I said.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“Um, yeah, I mean, yes. Yes, Ms. Nichols. A Mr. Berger stopped by and dropped off two tickets to an exclusive wine-tasting event up in Sonoma. It’s tonight, so I thought you would want to know right away,” Amy said.

So, Berger was the assistant thief this time, I thought. He knew full well I didn’t have the time for a wine tasting, but at least he’d made the effort to send a thank you.

“Wait, did you say Mr. Berger stopped by? He’s already in the office?” I asked. Amy paused, remembering my no-doubt-dashing colleague.

“I’m not sure he went home last night. He was wearing a tuxedo.” Of course, he was.

While I was sweating over the server crash and helping the tech managers organize their teams, the other junior executives had been representing our company at a Bay Area charity ball.

A whole night of free champagne. No wonder he was so free with his wine-tasting tickets.

“Send the tickets to my tech manager,” I told my temp assistant.

“He deserves them for setting everything right at the eleventh hour.” I choked on my last sip of coffee as I heard Amy rummaging through piles of paper.

She made nervous little sniffs as she searched.

“Your tech manager?”

“There’s a contacts roster inside your job description binder,” I said.

I dumped out the rest of my coffee in the kitchen sink and glanced out the window. The San Francisco Bay was glittering in the bright spring sunshine.

The Golden Gate Bridge was just emerging from a light layer of fog, and from my vantage point, San Francisco was shining like the inside of an abalone shell.

The light cardigan I wore was enough for my sunny spot in the East Bay, but the city would be chilly despite the spring weather.

I turned my back on the view and grabbed my tweed coat as I rushed to the door.

“Okay, I found the binder,” Amy said, “but there’s this big meeting this morning.”

“I know, Amy; it’ll be all right. I’m on my way now,” I said. I paused at the front door and took one more sweeping glance at my condominium.

It was a small one-bedroom, but it was on the top floor. The view was amazing when I had time for it, but now all I could do was make sure I had my briefcase, reports, and work files.

My sink was stacked high with dirty dishes, the dishwasher was full of forgotten clean ones, and I’d left two cupboards hanging open during my desperate search for breakfast. I took one step back inside to shut them, but stopped.

“Ms. Nichols, this binder has three hundred pages. Am I supposed to read it all?” Amy asked.

“Everyone’s rushing around for this big meeting and I don’t even know where the restrooms are.” I shut the front door behind me and locked it.

“Down the hall, take the first left. And after you get back, all you need to do is read the first section. I’ve outlined all your major responsibilities and created a suggested priority list. The rest of the binder is to be used as a reference.”

“Wow. This is great. I wish every exec had a binder like this. Your last assistant must have been very organized,” Amy said.

“I made that binder myself.” I paused at my car door and looked at my watch. It was no use fighting bridge traffic at that time in the morning, so I would have to take the train into the city.

“Who else have you seen this morning?”

“Oh.” Amy’s breathy sigh made my stomach clench.

“There was this very handsome man about five minutes ago. I think he came in with Mr. Berger. He was wearing a tux, but his tie was all undone and his shirt unbuttoned.”

My temp assistant melted on the other end of the line while I yanked open my car door and jumped in.

“Let me guess: bright-blue eyes and a dimple when he smiles?”

“Ooh, I didn’t see the dimple, but he had the yummiest stubble.” Amy giggled.

“He said he’d see me at the meeting.”

“At the meeting?” I let my tires do the shrieking for me as I raced through my hilly neighborhood.

“Why in the hell is Rainer Maxwell coming to my meeting?”

“Is that his name?” Amy asked.

“Oh, here he is on your contacts roster. Junior Executive, Public Relations. I bet he is good at his job.”

“All he can do is wink and smile,” I spat out.

“He has no idea what it takes to manage a project from conception to launch. I bet he doesn’t even know the server crashed and my team spent twelve hours straight fixing all the bugs. He probably thinks these apps appear out of nowhere, like plucking an apple off a tree.” I knew I was ranting, so I told Amy goodbye and then I stepped on the gas.

I strangled my steering wheel as traffic stopped again on the Bay Bridge.

I really should have taken the train.

I could see Hyperion Industries, the sleek skyscraper, standing out on the hilly streets of San Francisco.

Everything about it was polished and new, always on the cutting edge of technology.

The communications giant held the upper hand in everything from shared computer databases to bandwidth technology and internet applications.

It dominated the buildings and companies around it and was no less imposing from my vantage point on the bridge. Finally, an opening appeared and I drove on the shoulder to get to my exit.

It was strange to drive up to my office building rather than walk from the rapid transit station, but I didn’t have time to overthink it.

I did cringe as my old, economy sedan stood in line with Teslas and Porsches.

The executive valet service was something I only ever used in an emergency.

The astronomical numbers our product launch was showing explained my rush, but nothing erased the scraps and dents on my car.

The valets raised their eyebrows as I pulled up.

“Ms. Nichols?” a valet confirmed, looking at my badge.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t recognize you and your, um, car. We’ll take it right away.” I gathered up all my things and rushed into the lobby.

Glossy was the only word that came to mind when I entered Hyperion Industries.

The marble floor shone as did the tall columns that guided people to the first security checkpoint.

The circular front desk looked like the dock out of a futuristic spaceship.

The head security guard was surrounded by video monitors and computer directories.

If he didn’t recognize someone, his mountainous counterparts would detain them before they got to the elevator banks.

“Good morning, Otto,” I said. Otto folded his newspaper and stood up.

“Good morning, Tasha. You took over the world yet?” I laughed.

“Not yet, but that’s still the plan.”

“Here, let me help you with that.” Otto signaled for one of the large security guards to take his place.

He shuffled around the front desk and took the stack of reports and files from my arms.

“Hi, Larry. How’s your wife doing with her broken arm?” I asked.