Sweet Things (Dirty Boss Book 1) Read online

  Sweet Things

  K.M. Scott

  Contents

  Sweet Things Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About the Author

  Books by K.M. Scott:

  Books by K.M. Scott writing as Gabrielle Bisset

  SWEET THINGS

  From the moment I met Maddie, I wanted her. I can have any woman I want, but she’s all I can think of. She’s supposed to be my in-house cook, except for the fact that I rarely eat at home.

  So why do I have a cook at all? That’s Louis DeVille’s fault. I don’t know how he did it, but the owner of DeVille Staffing somehow convinced me to hire a cook, despite the fact that I don’t need or want one.

  What I do want is Maddie. From the moment I met her, I haven’t been able to think of anything but her. It’s like I’m under a spell and I won’t be normal again until I have her.

  NOTE: SWEET THINGS is all about instalove and sexy times between a woman and her boss. It couldn’t take place in today’s work environment because it’s pure fantasy, so read it with that in mind.

  Sweet Things is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  2020 Copper Key Media, LLC

  Copyright © 2020 Copper Key Media, LLC

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  Published in the United States

  ISBN: 978-1-7346645-5-3

  Chapter One

  Maddie

  My friends and I gathered for our weekly get-together at Cat's apartment to drink wine and try to forget our troubles. Inevitably, though, reality snuck into our fun, and the fact that we all needed new jobs became the focus.

  I poured myself another glass of wine and announced something I’d been thinking about for a while. "I think we need to strike out on our own. We have skills. We all do. So why not?" I said to my friends, Tia, Cat, and Emma, all four of us unemployed and not liking it one bit.

  "Strike out on our own? What does that mean? And what kind of skills do we have?" Tia asked. She'd always been the timid one of the bunch, but I needed her to get on board with this plan if it was going to work.

  Before I could answer her, Cat piped up with an even better answer than I had to give her. "Lots of things! I, for one, am a damn good driver. That doesn't seem like a big thing, but to people who can't or don't want to drive, I'm like some kind of magical being. You just have to think about what you do well. Maddie, you may not be a chef, but you're a damn good cook. And Tia, you're great with kids. Do you know how many people in this world have kids and need help with them? Millions. Maybe even billions."

  She turned toward Emma and smiled. "And you're as organized as they come. Do you know how many people aren't in this world? People seek out that skill, as well as the ones the rest of us have."

  "Exactly!" I said, jumping up from my chair as Cat's enthusiasm overcame me. "We just need to market ourselves. I say we start posting around on any site that will let us that we're here and ready to work. I know none of us have college degrees, but we can do this. We're young and full of ingenuity. That's a winning combination, in my opinion. What's the alternative? Low paying jobs don't pay the bills. I think we can all agree that’s not going to work."

  Although Emma and Tia didn't look completely convinced by my idea, they nodded their heads in agreement with Cat and me. This could work. I knew it. It had to because at the rate we were going, the four of us would be in real dire straits if it didn't.

  Cat stood to join me. "Okay, then that's what we'll do. We'll spend the day writing up ads we can post so the people who need our skills out there can find us. Time to sell ourselves, ladies!"

  Emma's eyes opened wide. "Sell ourselves? What are we talking about here, Cat?"

  I quickly moved to calm her. "Don't worry. We're not saying we're going to sell our bodies. What Cat means is we're going to create killer write-ups so people will be getting in line to pay us to do what we do especially well. Like with you, for example, your write up has to say how organized you are and how efficient you are as a worker. People who lack the ability to get their shit together love those kinds of things. Trust me. I'm one of them, and just hearing someone is organized and efficient makes them instantly impressive to people like me. Trust me, Em. This is going to work."

  She took a deep breath and looked over at Cat and Tia. "Okay. Let's do this!"

  Four hours later, we'd finished off the last three bottles of wine Cat had on hand and each of us had our ads. We'd written and rewritten them a dozen times, but finally, we liked what we had down on paper.

  Each one of us had our skills highlighted, what tasks we could perform, and any other special things of interest we wanted potential employers to know. I made sure to include that I could be a live-in cook, if necessary, since I had no problem living somewhere else for a while.

  "Remember, when you're posting on whatever site you're on, be sure to check the Help Wanted section too. Your perfect employer-employee match might be lurking in there."

  Cat added, "And if you're unsure what to say in reply to one of them, just type out what we wrote today. Now let's go post and get ourselves some good paying jobs!"

  Two days of working every site that would take posts like ours had produced nothing for me, but I didn't lose hope. Sometimes these things took a little while. I just hoped they didn't take too long because I needed money and I needed it soon. My friend Candy had been nice enough to let me crash at her place for the past few months, but I knew that couldn't last forever.

  Scrolling through the Help Wanted ads on the site I felt sure would produce some results, I came upon something I thought might be perfect for me.

  Cook Needed for Private Residence

  Position will require person to live on premises and work irregular hours. Additional requirements: ability to work well with others, clean criminal background, clean drug test, flexibility, interest in learning new things. Position will be rewarding to the right candidate.

  I had experience in my uncle's restaurant all through high school doing everything from dishwashing to waitressing and then cooking on the line, and I had the ability to live wherever I wanted to and strange work hours didn't bother me in the least. I'd always been told I worked well with others, and I was as clean as they came. Plus, I possessed an urge to learn new things, so it felt like the ad had been written just for me.

  But did this would-be employer want someone with real training in cooking? I had the experience, but I was no professional chef. I'd worked at my uncle's restaurant all through school, but college had never appealed to me, so I instead decided to enter the workplace and make some money. The problem was I lived in what may have been the smallest town in the whole country, so there wasn't a lot of money to be made in Castine, Maine, a place that could boast having some very nice people and little else.

  My uncle had offered to let me continue to work at his restaurant, but I wanted to try new things and see new places, so I set out on my own and headed toward New York City to visit my friend Candy, a childhood friend who had left our hometown the minute they handed her the diploma.

  While I’d had some fun, after two months all my money was gone. I’d had some luck in finding odd jobs, but minimum wage paydays didn’t go very far, so it was time to find a job that would pay more.

  I looked at the bottom of the job listing and saw a name. DeVille Staffing. Below that was a number and a website address to apply for the job. My heart raced at the thought that I might have found something so quickly. My hands shaking, I clicked on the link and copied what my friends and I had written to sell me to potential employers.

  Then I sent it off to DeVille Staffing and sat back, excited by the possibility that I'd soon hear something. I couldn’t give up searching, though. I had a good feeling about that position, but I couldn’t sit back and wait for them. My dwindling bank account demanded I keep looking.

  But twenty minutes later, my phone let me know I had an email, and there in my inbox was a request to come in for an interview that afternoon at two. I quickly emailed back to say I’d be there, and then realized I had no idea of where DeVille Staffing was located.

  No matter. I’d search for that later. First, I had to text my friends about my good luck.

  I found something in the Help Wanted section of EmployWe this morning. I just got an email from a staffing agency to come in for an interview this afternoon. I’ll let you know how it goes. Wish me luck!

  "Maddie Thompson!" someone yelled from the front of the waiting room of DeVille Staffing, and I looked up to see a pretty blond woman waving at me.

  I gathered up my purse and my references and hurried to where she stood. "I'm Maddie."

  "It's nice to meet you. Come with me."

  "Okay. Thanks!" I answered enthusiastically, trying to show how eager I was to find a position, hopefully the
one I'd applied for.

  As we walked back toward an interview room past a line of people waiting to be called, the woman turned around and looked me up and down, making me doubt my choice of the black skirt and pink blouse. I should have gone with my favorite navy blue and white polka dot dress, but after a party at Candy's last week, I forgot to wash it, so business boring was the only choice available.

  "Mondays really are busy days here, aren't they?" I asked, needing to fill the empty space in the conversation before my insecurity did as we entered a small room at the end of the hallway.

  She nodded and smiled before offering me a seat at the table in the center of the room. "It definitely is. Take a seat and Mr. DeVille will be in shortly. Good luck!"

  Before I could say a word, she disappeared, leaving me sitting there with my sweaty palms and butterflies in my stomach. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait too long before a very attractive man with jet black hair and sparkling blue eyes walked into the room. He wore a goatee that gave him a sinister look that intimidated me, but then he smiled and my fears melted away.

  Closing the door behind him, he sat down and looked across the table at me, his blue eyes scanning my face for a moment before he said, "Welcome to DeVille Staffing, Maddie. I'm the owner, Mr. Louis DeVille. I've looked at your application and believe you're a perfect match with one of our best clients. If you can start today, we can get you together with your new employer, Mr. Eric Pierce, as his personal cook."

  My heart leapt with joy! "Oh, that's wonderful. Thank you! I can start today, of course. Just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it."

  Mr. DeVille jotted down a few notes on the application I'd filled out online and then looked up at me. A sly smile spread across his mouth.

  "I like to hear an applicant say they'll do whatever they have to in order to make a client happy. I think you're going to be a perfect match for this position. Mr. Pierce is eager to get started immediately. Do you have any details to wrap up before heading out to his house?"

  I quickly ran through anything that I might have to do before starting my new job and shook my head. "No, sir. I'm ready to go right now."

  His gaze slid down to my breasts, and he arched a single dark eyebrow. "Excellent. I'll arrange transportation for you immediately, and you'll be at your new job in no time."

  He stood to leave, but suddenly I began to question everything. Who was this Eric Pierce? Would I be working for just him, or was there an entire family living there that I'd be cooking for? I didn't doubt I could do the job, but I wanted to know what I was getting into.

  "Excuse me, Mr. DeVille, but I was wondering if you could tell me a little about the position. How many people live in Mr. Pierce's home? Will I be required to prepare any menus to adhere to any special diets anyone must follow? I want to make sure I do the best job I possibly can."

  The owner of DeVille Staffing looked down at me and smiled. "Very good questions. I like that you're so attentive, Maddie. I have a feeling Mr. Pierce will appreciate that too. To answer your questions, Mr. Pierce lives alone, except for other members of his staff. He will instruct you on what he will want you to prepare for him. Do you have any other questions?"

  It felt like I should have a million other questions, but as I sat there looking up at Mr. DeVille and getting lost in those gorgeous blue eyes of his, I couldn't think of any others. "No, I guess not," I said quietly.

  I needed a job badly, but something felt off about all of this. I couldn’t put my finger on what, though.

  “Is something wrong?” Mr. DeVille asked.

  Hesitating because I didn’t want to insult him, I finally squeaked out, “You run checks on clients, don’t you? I mean, I know you run checks on those of us who are looking for jobs, but do you do the same for prospective employers? I only ask because I’m going to live there, so I feel like I should know.”

  As I spoke, his expression softened until he finally smiled when I finished. “That’s a good question to ask, and you have every right to do so. I can assure you that we investigate all our employers, and Mr. Pierce is an upstanding citizen. You’ll be in good hands with him.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Okay. Thank you.”

  "Good. You can go outside to the receptionist and she'll instruct you on where to wait for your escort to Mr. Pierce's house. Good luck, Maddie, and remember that your job is to do exactly as your new employer demands. Do that, and I have no doubt you'll find your new position more than satisfactory."

  And with that, he walked out, leaving me sitting there wondering if I'd gotten myself into more than I could handle. I didn't know who this Mr. Pierce was and now I was moving out to his home where he lived alone, except for his staff. I didn't even know where his house was located.

  But I didn't have much of a choice. I needed money and I'd succeeded in getting hired, even though as I walked out to speak to the receptionist, I realized I hadn't asked one of the most important questions of all.

  How much was I going to be paid for being Eric Pierce's cook?

  Just about an hour later, the car pulled up to an enormous home with a grey stone façade and what looked like enough bedrooms to make the place a hotel. I stared out the backseat window as my mouth dropped open at my new home. Even though I'd likely be living in some small room in the servants' quarters at the rear of the home, I assumed, it still was the nicest place I'd ever been to.

  "This is the place, miss," the driver said while he looked back at me in the rear view mirror.

  I smiled and thanked him for the ride before I stepped out onto the circular driveway. I had no bags, which made me feel like I was missing something or homeless, and I watched as the car rolled away, leaving me standing there at this strange house and wondering if I'd made the biggest mistake of my life.

  You need money, Maddie, so just suck it up and get in there.

  "Can I help you?" a soft voice asked from behind me.

  I turned around and saw a beautiful young woman with braided black hair down to her waist looking at me with a curious gaze. She had an exotic feel to her that I instantly wished I possessed, and for a moment, I was struck by how shiny her hair looked. Mine never looked like that, no matter what shampoo and conditioner I used.

  Nervously tugging on my brown hair that barely reached my shoulders, I moved toward her and explained, "I'm here from DeVille Staffing. Mr. Pierce advertised for a cook, and they sent me."

  God, that sounded sad, like I was some kind of consolation prize. I didn't think of myself like that, so why had the words come out so pathetic?

  The woman didn't seem to pick up on it, though, and waved me toward her. "Okay. Come in and I'll let Mr. Pierce know you're here."

  I followed her in through the massive front doors into a two-story grey stone entryway that matched the stone on the outside of the house and gave the place a ski lodge feel. She stopped me as she moved toward a room off to the right.

  "Stay here, please. When he's ready, Mr. Pierce will call you in."

  "Okay."

  Standing there, I again felt out of place like I had outside after the driver dropped me off. I needed to get myself together before the man of the house came out and immediately wondered if Mr. DeVille had made a mistake choosing me to fill the position. So I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to steady myself.

  It was, after all, just a cook job.

  Except that it seemed to be at the finest house in all of New York State and the person I'd be working for might have more money than every man, woman, and child I'd ever met combined and times by ten.

  "Miss Thompson?"

  My eyes flew open, and I saw a man standing in front of me. At least six foot two, he wore a suit just like a man should, filling it out in all the right places. My gaze settled on his chiseled features, beautiful mouth, and deep blue eyes as they studied me. He was nothing less than stunning.