Page 3 of Grumpy Alien Boss

CHAPTER 3

OLIVIA

T he numbers blur together on my screen as I scroll through another financial projection. My shoulders ache from hunching over Dar—Mr. Rook's massive mahogany desk. The leather of his chair creaks as I lean back, rubbing my tired eyes.

"What the hell?"

The V-Truth holdings report flashes red, denying my access code. I double-check my credentials, but the system keeps blocking me. Strange. Mr. Rook gave me full clearance for everything related to the Asian market analysis.

A fresh coffee scent wafts from my mug, grounding me as I take a sip. Two weeks in, and I've already memorized which elevator brings the best pastries, learned three different coffee orders for Mr. Rook depending on his mood, and mastered the art of scheduling meetings across seventeen time zones.

My fingertips tap against the polished wood. The V-Truth data is the last piece I need for this report. The rest of the projections look solid—better than solid. Our Vietnamese tech startups are outperforming expectations by thirty percent.

"Add it to the list," I mutter, jotting down a note on my tablet. Mr. Rook returns from Singapore tomorrow, and I'll need to brief him on everything I've found. Or haven't found, in this case.

The setting sun paints Manhattan's skyline in amber through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I've been at this for hours, but that's what it takes to keep up with Darwin Rook's pace. The man operates on a different frequency than normal humans—like a shark that never stops swimming.

But I'm keeping up. More than keeping up. Every impossible task he's thrown at me, I've knocked out of the park. This V-Truth thing is just another puzzle to solve.

My phone chimes with a calendar alert. Shit. Mr. Rook's flight lands in thirty minutes. I spring up from his chair, my heart racing as I pull up the photo I took of his desk arrangement before I commandeered it.

"Okay, okay..." I shift the Mont Blanc pen exactly three inches from the laptop. The brass desk clock goes precisely between the family photo and the crystal paperweight.

Perfect. Not a single item out of place.

I scurry to his private bathroom, my reflection showing against the marble floor. The mirror reflects back a woman trying too hard to look professional while fighting a hopeless crush. I smooth down my blouse, adjust my pencil skirt.

"Get it together, Livvy."

But who am I kidding? Every time he walks into the room, my pulse skips. The way his presence fills the space, how his voice drops when we're alone going over reports...

And sometimes, when I'm focused on work, I catch his reflection in my computer screen. The intensity in those red-brown eyes as they follow my movements.

I fish my lipstick from my purse. One quick touch-up of Cincinatti Rose, and?—

A metallic glint catches my eye. Something small and red on the floor near the toilet. I bend down to investigate, picking up what looks like a guitar pick, but feels different. Smoother, almost like polished stone.

"Weird."

I toss it in the trash and head back to my desk. Mr. Rook will be here any minute, and I need those reports ready.

The door swings open and Mr. Rook's commanding presence fills the room. My heart does that stupid flutter thing as I grab his coffee and rush to meet him.

"Welcome back, Mr. Rook. Black coffee, fresh from carafe."

His fingers brush mine as he takes the mug, and his smile makes my knees weak. Those red-brown eyes crinkle at the corners, warming my insides like a shot of expensive bourbon.

"The Martinez contract came through yesterday. I had legal review the terms, made the suggested edits, and sent it back for signatures." The words tumble out as I follow him to his desk. "Oh, and I rescheduled the board meeting to accommodate Mr. Chen's travel delays."

God, listen to me babbling like an eager puppy. But I can't help myself - I want him to know how well I handled everything while he was gone.

"The quarterly projections are ready for your review, and I reorganized the Asian market portfolio based on last month's metrics." I tap my tablet, forwarding the files to his screen. "Though I did hit a snag accessing the V-Truth holdings data-"

Mr. Rook sets down his coffee, that slight smile still playing at his lips. My cheeks burn. Here I am, practically tap dancing for his approval like some desperate kid showing daddy her straight-A report card.

But dammit, I worked my ass off these past two weeks. Every deadline met, every crisis managed, every detail perfect - just like he demands. I just need him to see that, to know he made the right choice hiring me.

"You have performed exemplary work, Ms. McGee."

My face splits into a grin before I can stop it. The praise washes over me like summer rain, and I have to physically plant my feet to keep from bouncing on my toes.

"What was that last item you mentioned? About V-Truth?"

"Oh, right." I pull up the file location on my tablet. "I found it buried in the Vietnamese holdings database while compiling the quarterly report. The access keeps getting denied even though I have full clearance for that sector."

Mr. Rook's expression darkens as he leans over my shoulder to look at the screen. His cologne tickles my nose - something spicy and expensive that makes my head swim. But the tension radiating from him snaps me back to focus.

His fingers fly across the keyboard, pulling up command prompts I've never seen before. The furrow in his brow deepens with each keystroke.

"In the future, if you find any more V-truth files, please contact me immediately." His voice drops to a dangerous octave. "And under no circumstances attempt to open, transfer, or delete the files. Is that clear?"

The shift in his demeanor sends a chill down my spine. Gone is the pleased boss from moments ago. This is something else - something that makes the air feel thick and heavy. I manage a quick nod, shrinking back slightly.

"I said, is that clear?" The snap in his voice makes me jump.

Heat flushes through my body, my spine stiffening as that familiar McGee stubbornness kicks in. Before my brain can stop my mouth, the words spill out.

"Crystal clear, Mr. Rook, Sir." I snap off a crisp military salute, ice dripping from every syllable. "Shall I flagellate myself for failing to answer properly?"

The temperature in the room drops ten degrees. Mr. Rook's massive frame seems to expand, filling the space between us until I'm drowning in his shadow. His nostrils flare, and those strange red-brown eyes narrow to dangerous slits.

"I'm sorry, Ms. McGee." The way he bites off my name makes my stomach clench. "But what did you just say to me?"

For a split second, my courage wavers. He towers over me like an angry god, all barely contained power and fury. But I didn't get where I am by backing down when things got tough.

"If V Truth files are off limits to me, I understand that...now." I lift my chin, meeting that burning gaze. "But the fact that I did not before is your failure, not mine, Mr. Rook. I will follow your instructions to the letter. Just like I have from the moment you hired me. But like I told you the first day we met, I'll never lie to you and always speak my mind. And in my opinion, you didn't have to snap at me."

My heart hammers as I watch the emotions play across Mr. Rook's face. First comes the shock - his eyes widening just a fraction, jaw tensing. No one must stand up to him like this. Then anger floods back, his massive frame seeming to grow even larger.

But something shifts in those strange red-brown eyes. The fury melts into... curiosity? His gaze rakes over me.

When his face finally cracks into that devastating grin, my knees go weak. The smile transforms his whole face, softening the sharp angles into something almost playful.

"You're right, Ms. McGee. There was no need for me to be rude in order to impress upon you the importance of this matter." His voice wraps around me like warm silk. "I apologize for not properly training you. Normally, I'm quite good at the administration of training and discipline."

Oh God. The way he says "discipline" sends a shiver straight down my spine. My mind races to very inappropriate places involving his massive hands and - No. Bad Livvy. He's your boss.

But my mouth has other ideas.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," I blurt out.

The words hang in the air between us. My face flames hot enough to melt steel. Did I actually just say that? To Darwin freaking Rook?

His deep laugh rolls through the office like thunder, making my toes curl inside my shoes. Mr. Rook moves behind his desk with fluid grace that seems impossible for someone his size.

"I do so look forward to our interactions, Ms. McGee. Sometimes I regret that..."

The words trail off, and something flickers across his face. His jaw tightens, those strange red-brown eyes darting away from mine. It's the first time I've ever seen him look uncertain about anything.

"You regret what?" The question slips out before I can stop myself.

"Nothing." His voice turns crisp and professional. "At least, with regards to my hiring you. Now, the Fiscal Auditor at my Hong Kong holdings has to have surgery tomorrow, so YOU will be handling the accounts until the middle of next week..."

My shoulders slump as he launches into a detailed explanation of Hong Kong's financial protocols. Classic deflection tactic - bury me in work so I'll forget what just happened.

And it's working. My tablet fills with notes as he outlines exactly what he needs from me. But beneath my professional exterior, questions burn like embers. What was he about to say? What does he regret?

Not that I can ask. When Darwin Rook changes the subject, that subject stays changed. Still, I file this moment away with all the other little mysteries about my enigmatic boss - like that strange red scale I found in his bathroom.