Patience – the capacity to tolerate a grumpy boss without wanting to throw him in a steaming pile of burning biomass
At the sound of my boss, Beckett, bellowing my name throughout the office, I close my eyes and search for patience.
The second bellow of my name makes it clear today will not be the day I discover the ability to accept my boss’ interruptions without becoming annoyed, although no one will notice my annoyance. On the outside, I’m completely composed.
I’m always composed. My sisters believe I have no emotions. Just because I don’t fling my emotions at random passers-by the way they do doesn’t mean I don’t have any. There’s no reason to inflict my emotional baggage on other people. I don’t want theirs, why would they want mine?
I inhale a deep breath and let it out slowly before I rise from my chair. I run a hand down my skirt to smooth away the wrinkles caused by hours of sitting before exiting my office and walking to Beckett’s.
I frown when I notice the empty desk in front of his office. His personal assistant should be sitting here. If she were at her desk, he wouldn’t feel the need to yell my name throughout the building.
“Where’s Brandi?” I ask upon entering my boss’ office.
“How should I know?”
Is he serious?
“Because she’s your PA and she could summon people into your office using this handy device known as a telephone allowing you to save your yelling and screaming for your private life.”
A hint of humor flares in his eyes before he blinks, and it’s gone. I wish I could say the hint doesn’t make my belly feel warm and tingly, but I do not lie. It’s not that I don’t have the ability to lie. Nearly everyone has the ability to lie. I simply choose not to.
Beckett clears his throat and despite knowing the likelihood of whatever he’s planning to say angering me, I can’t help myself from anticipating the sound of his voice. His voice is deep and gravely. It’s on the top of the long list detailing the reasons why the man is the sexiest person I’ve ever met.
Next on the list is his face. Combine his deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, and square jaw and all the standard requirements for sexy have been not only met but exceeded. It would be a perfect face except his nose is a bit too straight and there’s a small bump in the middle of it as if it’s been broken in the past. If he didn’t spend all his time barking at me, I’d ask him what happened.
I mustn’t forget to mention his hair, which also makes the top ten of the list. It’s thick and dark except when the sun shines and streaks of blond become visible. Those streaks along with the curl at his neck give him a careless, youthful appearance despite his age of thirty-eight.
If his sexy voice and almost perfect face weren’t enough to cause flutters in my belly, his body could do the job all on its own. I’m quite tall for a woman at five-foot-nine and Beckett at an even six-foot is the perfect size for me. Not too tall, but not too short either.
He also spends a great deal of time working out causing his biceps to strain at the sleeves of his button-down tops. Men who work out a great deal can quickly become disproportional with overdeveloped neck muscles and underdeveloped quadriceps, but Beckett’s body is the perfect balance.
“I don’t scream,” he protests, and my contemplation of his sexiness comes to a complete halt.
I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms over my chest. There’s no need to speak. He knows very well he was screaming since my office is down the hall from his and yet I heard him perfectly.
“How did your meeting with the White Bridge city administrators go? Are they interested in our firm helping to improve their recycling?”
At his question, I enjoy a moment of imagining myself strangling him. Not to death. Just enough to cause him to lose the ability to speak for a while.
I’m not a violent person. I would never actually strangle him, but I read an article suggesting imagining the act as a way to cope with frustration with a person. An article I only read because Beckett is the most frustrating person I’ve ever met.
Although his question seems appropriate enough – I did meet with the city administrators today to discuss their recycling program – it’s not. Before Beckett arrived and took over the CEO position at Clean Mountain Environment last year, I had complete autonomy over my work.
“I’m nearly finished with the report. I’ll have it on your desk by tomorrow morning.”
He growls in annoyance, and my stomach dips at the sound. Beckett Dempsey may be the most frustrating man on the planet, but his sexy growls make me want to do wicked things to him and with him.
No, Lilac. Those thoughts are highly inappropriate. Beckett Dempsey is your boss. You do not want to do wicked things with him. It’s the sexual frustration speaking. Ever since Beckett showed up, I haven’t had any time to meet with a sexual partner.
I frown. Sexual partner? Considering it’s been months since I had sex, I think it’s safe to say I no longer have any sexual partners. Damn Beckett.
“I don’t want to wait for the report. I want to know what the city administrators said from you. Now,” he grits out between clenched teeth.