Brazen Bossman
A Cocky Hero Club Novel
Emma Nichole
Copyright © 2020 by Emma Nichole and Cocky Hero Club, Inc.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical, or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, story lines, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales or any events or occurrences are purely coincidental. This book is for your personal enjoyment only. Please respect the author’s work by not contributing to piracy and purchasing a copy for those you wish to share it with.
Editing and Proofreading: Karen Hrdlicka – Barren Acres Editing
Formatting: Literary Graphic Designs by Emma Nichole
Cover Design: Literary Graphic Designs by Emma Nichole
Cover Photo: Deposit Photos
Brazen Bossman is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s Stuck-Up Suit. It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Dear Ida,
What do you do when your boss is a complete and total asshole, but you want him as much as you hate him? I want to attack him and rip his stupid, beautiful face off, but I also want to climb him like a tree. It’s making work very interesting, not to mention awkward, considering I can’t even look at him without imagining his face between my legs.
Is it possible to want to sleep with someone you despise, while simultaneously plotting their demise Home Alone style?
Send help!
P. – 28 years old, Brooklyn.
Chapter 1
Piper
There’s nothing quite as exhilarating and annoyingly frustrating as being packed into a coffee shop in New York City on a Monday morning, with seventy other people who are equally as frustrated and annoyed.
At this point, everyone around me is lucky I haven’t punched them out.
I’m not a morning person.
I’m sure as hell not a Monday morning person.
I shift from one foot to the other. My heels are already making my feet ache, and I didn’t bring any walking shoes.
Rookie mistake.
I’m nearly contemplating standing barefoot in the middle of a crowded coffee shop, risking the safety of my toes, when a voice shouts my name from the far left of the counter.
“Piper!”
I look up to see the smiling face of my favorite barista in the city, Gabe, and he’s waving me over to him.
I squeeze, shimmy, and slide my way through the crowd and over to my savior in the green apron.
“I could kiss you. Seriously. Do you want to make out? You deserve it,” I say, placing my hands on the counter.
“Sorry, beautiful. As tempting as that is, I prefer a bit of beard with my make-out sessions,” he replies. “Your face is a little too smooth for my liking.”
“The good ones are always gay or taken,” I huff lovingly.
“Getting the usual today?” He starts pulling a variety of cup sizes down to write on them.
“Yes, but Asshole decided he wanted oat milk today. God forbid we allow dairy to upset his delicate stomach. Actually, put fucking heavy cream in there. I want to watch him fall apart during a meeting later. It would make my Monday a little brighter.”
“You’re vicious, but I don’t want you to lose your job. I’ll stick to the requested oat milk.”
Asshole, as I so lovingly call him, is a nickname for my horrific boss. And by horrific, I mean he’s the actual worst. Not to mention he’s so goddamn beautiful that his personality being so horrible is like a sick, cosmic joke.
I’ve been an assistant/secretary/errand runner with Lennox Publishing for six years, and for the most part, I’ve loved it. Hell, for the first five years, I completely loved it, and then Carlson Lennox decided to step down unexpectedly last year and let his son take the reins.
Thus, began the last year of utter annoyance and frustration that has made me contemplate murder.
“All right, I’ve got you all set to go.” Gabe says, snapping me out of my thought process.
He places the drink carrier on the counter, and I slide the company credit card through the card reader, shove the receipt in my purse before turning on my aching feet, and heading back out in the bustling Manhattan commute.
***
Lennox Publishing is located on the top floor of a high rise on Madison Avenue. With stunning views of Central Park, it’s one of the few things about working here that keeps me sane.
The view and my coworker and best friend, Kate.
“Careful. He’s on the warpath today,” she says when I open the large glass doors that lead into the main reception area. She is seated perfectly behind the desk with her blonde hair twisted into a knot on top of her head. She adjusts her black-rimmed glasses and smiles. “Good luck.”
“Shit. What happened?” I examine the labels on the coffees before plucking her mocha latte from the carrier and placing it on the desk for her.
“I’m not sure.” She takes the coffee and sips it slowly. “He was extra rude when he strutted through this morning. He didn’t even acknowledge me. He simply told me to not let anyone bother him today. Honestly, he’s lucky he’s so damn fine. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have a thing going for him.” She takes another sip. “Thank you
