The CEO's Obsession

1. I hate my boss...that handsome asshole

Tamra -

I absolutely can't stand Brady Decker. His chiseled features stare up at me from the cover of the magazine on the table in front of me, sapphire blue eyes twinkling like he's about to tell a joke, mouth twisted into a cruel smile. Handsome asshole.

Sure, 6 foot 4 inches of big, strong man towering above you, those piercing blue eyes, that dark hair that falls across his forehead and into his eyes...it all sounds like an appealing package. And then he opens that smug mouth of his. Not that he's really ever said anything awful to me, I guess. I just resent everything about him.

Some would say that my hate for Decker is unfounded when we've only had a few conversations. To that I say, ridiculous! It's not just that I hate the man himself, I loathe everything he represents. The money, the power, the people falling over themselves to be near him because he and his family are rich...it all disgusts me. Shit is good when you earn it and if everything is gifted to you on a silver platter you miss out on what it means to be human. Thus, I justify my hatred.

I flip over the magazine with my toes so I can't see his face, giving it a little kick for good measure. It doesn't surprise me that Decker's face is on the cover. I just didn't want to see him this early in the morning. At least I'd already had one mocha and danced for an hour. That allowed me to sort of deal with his bullshit. If I saw that face straight when I woke up...that magazine would be ripped up into tiny pieces. Well, not really, it would just go in my recycling bin, but I'd throw it in with extra oomph.

I grab handfuls of my loose curls and tie them into a messy knot on the top of my head. I pray that I don't have to see him again today. Run ins with Decker used to be rare apparently, but they are happening more and more frequently. For someone whose supposed to be sort of a recluse, he seems to be popping into work a lot. And I don't mean in his office, I mean he haunts all the floors of the freaking building like a spirit seeking revenge.

Decker is the CEO of Decker & Clark, the building that takes up an entire city block. That's the company I work for. Yea, that's right, he's my boss. He also happens to be probably the richest man in the entire state, and one of the scariest dudes around.

I prop my foot up on the magazine as I tug on my waterproof boots. It's raining again and my leggings and jacket are going to get soaked. I'll have to haul ass on my bike to make it to work on time. Tuesday and Thursday mornings I teach a hip hop class for teenage girls at the dance studio in my neighborhood. 6 in the morning is no joke though. Everyone including me isn't quite awake at that time, but by the end of class we're ready to start the day. The girls try to mouth off to me every now and then but I don't take any lip. They're good kids overall. They kept me later than I planned today asking what song we're going to choose for their dance competition which means I'm barely going to have to change into my work uniform when I get to the office. What a joke. Most of the women in the building (with the exception of the 60+ ladies in the tax department, those beautiful, intelligent ladies) wear the shortest skirts possible, blouses undone so a hint of bra peeks out, just in case Decker happens to be in the building. Trying too hard much?

It was suggested on my last employee check in that I pay more attention to my wardrobe. Maybe pick up a skirt or two. Skirt my ass. I mean literally, my ass would need a miracle to get into most skirts. Dancing builds muscle, what can I say, plus my mamma was totally packin' in the booty department. I don't need to be ogled on the job, so pants do fine, thank you very much.

Giving the magazine one last kick with my boot, I grab my keys and make sure the studio is locked up. My stomach grumbles as I unchain my bike and begin to weave my way through traffic. Second breakfast here I come! Thomas will get me the hook up on a hot bagel bursting with gooey, delicious cream cheese and Ryan always has orange juice waiting for me in the tiny fridge under his desk. I may hate my boss, but goddamn do I love the boys I work with!