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Cocky Genius: Ethan Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 9) by Faleena Hopkins (3)

3

CHARLOTTE

“Dammit!” I barked as I hung up the phone. One more impatient member of the board whose fears I had to assuage.

I spun my high-backed, eggshell white leather chair south to find comfort in Buckhead’s skyline through glorious, floor-to-ceiling corner windows.

A knock sounded on the glass door to my office. “Ms. Reed?”

“Yes, Dolores, come in,” I said without moving. The silent juxtaposition of those incredible skyscrapers in the distance normally calmed me, but not that day.

“I heard you swearing. Wanted to see if everything was okay.”

My secretary had been with the company for over twenty years, and was more loyal than a Labrador after two decades of steak dinners.

I stared at the view and confessed with deep agitation, “I just wish my grandfather had never gone public. I wouldn’t have this many people breathing down my neck, demanding to find that damned security leak. I just told him, for the third time, that we’ve hired someone and that the guy has temporarily stopped the breach and is seeking out the reason in order to make that stop permanent. You think that was good enough for Albert Cosnick? No. He just kept hounding me and naming off one by one the other board members who are also concerned.”

“Too many cooks in the kitchen…” Dolores sighed.

Spinning back around I muttered, “Isn’t that the truth.”

“Maybe if you told him who you hired?”

I stared at her for a beat. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Ethan Cocker is well known for his ingenuity, and that’s putting it lightly. Mr. Cosnick might relax.”

“I’ve considered that, but I don’t know,” I sighed, turning over the ring on my right hand. It had been my mother’s and I always played with it when deep in thought. “I guess I’m angry he isn’t trusting me to handle this. If Grandpa was still here, Cosnick would keep his mouth shut.” I held up my hand. “And don’t tell me I have to earn their respect. He wouldn’t have left this company to me if I couldn’t handle it. You know how he was. And I’m not going to make them privy to every decision in order to appease their fears that a woman will run this corporation into the ground. The old coots. And you know what, Dolores, it wouldn’t work anyway. It will take years for them to trust me, if they ever do. I just have to learn to let it slide off my back like water off a duck.”

“Would you like me to get you more coffee?”

“No, I need a walk. Thank you.” I rose up and gracefully adjusted my navy blue suit. My hair was in a French twist, which I absently touched to make sure no pieces were out of place. In the far reaches of my psyche I felt far older than my twenty-eight years, but on the surface I wasn’t aware of anything except bringing Wyntech Industries back into the black.

Dolores lifted the stack of papers I’d left for her to file, as I passed her, both of us focused on our tasks. The instant I was in the hall I exhaled and elongated my neck, walking by office after office of my finest employees.

It wasn’t quite noon. I knew the break room would most likely be empty, so when I walked in and saw it was not, I was at once surprised and disappointed. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and furthermore, this person clearly didn’t belong here. But at the same time this registered I also noticed what any red-blooded woman would.

He was turned away from me, standing before the refrigerator pouring bottled water into one of our company glasses with the logo engraved on its side. His shoulders were broad, a t-shirt stretched tightly across them as he poured. Ripped jeans hung on an ass that could not have been more perfect, hips narrow. He was in sneakers, not new ones, and his hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and hadn’t bothered to look in a mirror. To say he was out of place in the stiff professional environment that my grandfather built was an understatement.

Immediately I guessed him to be a courier. Or perhaps he’d delivered food to someone on this floor. Whatever he was here for, he would be gone soon and I just wanted a coffee.

My voice was rigid as I said, “Excuse me.”

He motioned without looking up. “Coffee machine’s right there. I’m not in your way.” He remained where he was, which in my opinion was too close in my personal space.

My eyebrows rose. “If I say you’re in my way, then you are.”

He glanced over and visibly reacted as our eyes locked. His were intelligent, sharp. And just like the color of his hair, they were the warm hue of a chestnut’s husk. But something strange happened to me as we stared at each other, a click inside my heart. I had no idea what it was, but instantly I felt queasy.

“Well, someone needs her coffee, huh?” he dryly said.

Ignoring that, I opened a cupboard and selected my favorite mug and a Sumatra roast pod, sliding it into place and starting the machine. “Are you going to refrigerate the entire floor or will you be closing that door anytime soon?”

I was the picture of cold detachment on the outside but my fingers oddly had begun to tremble. I’d been around plenty of handsome men before without experiencing this butterfly feeling in my core, so the reaction made no sense to me.

He swung the door open wider, its florescent beams illuminating my right side. Then he leaned against the wall, his height just shy of the digital clock that hung there. He slurped his water to further annoy me.

I was in no mood for this shit.

I took two steps and slammed the refrigerator door shut.

The bastard smirked and whispered, “Ooooh, you’re so strong.”

“If you’re done delivering whatever it is you came here to bring, you may find an exit now or I will have you thrown out of the building.”

Something lit behind his eyes. It looked like mischief, which in a grown man was distracting, to say the least. He was a six-foot-two-inch, gorgeous imp.

“What if I don’t want to leave? What if I like it here?”

My head twitched with confusion, and I was rapidly blinking in my struggle to contain my growing anger, as well as my bewilderment at how my body was reacting to this guy. I felt clammy. On edge. I wanted to hit him or kiss him and neither was appropriate.

The last few drips into my favorite mug echoed.

Drip…dripdrip.

I swallowed hard to break free from our standoff.

Crossing to my coffee I snapped, “I’m calling security.”

“Do it. They’ll just tell you that I work here.”

What?”

“I’m not delivering anything. I work here. On this floor.”

I froze a beat, then faced him, spine stiffening. “How is that possible?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Not sure that I understand the question, your Highness.”

My jaw clenched. I sauntered over with a challenge in my eyes. “Then you must not be too bright, so let me spell it out for you. How is it possible that someone let you in dressed like a teenage skater?” His eyes narrowed. “This is a multi-million dollar corporation and if you do not see fit to treat it with respect, then you shouldn’t be here. Go home and don’t come back until you’re wearing a suit befitting a man. We don’t employ boys at Wyntech. We don’t have the time to teach you how to be a grown-up, understand?”

I turned on my heel and nearly spilled my coffee. Goddammit, I came here to relax and here I was schooling some new hire how to dress? This was ridiculous. I needed to call Human Resources and demand to know how this slob missed the memo about proper attire. Also, I needed to get far away from him before I did something unbecoming of a C.E.O.

Before I got out the door I barked, “What’s your name?”

He hadn’t moved, nor did he look like he was going to. The warmth in his eyes was gone but other than that, I hadn’t made a dent in his devil-may-care demeanor. He drank down the water, taking his damn time, and then looked at the empty glass. “Hmm, I guess being bitched at makes me thirsty.”

My mouth dropped open. “That’s it! What. Is. Your. Name. Because you are fired. And I want to tell security who to call.”

He paused a moment. “I’m Ethan Cocker. And you are?”

Everything locked up inside me as I realized how royally screwed I was in that moment, and how much I’d just stuffed my high heel in my mouth.

Ethan Cocker was there to save my company.

He worked freelance.

I had no rule over him.

In fact, I was at his mercy.

And fuck me, but I’d never searched him online so I had no idea what he looked like before now. When I heard we were hiring the best computer genius there was to track a hacker who’d broken into our system, I expected a scrawny nerd in an oversized suit with horn-rimmed glasses and a nose-picking problem. Crazy, yes, but that’s what I’d pictured in my mind, despite my peripheral knowledge of the Cocker family. I envisioned some guy with skin that never saw the sun because he was always indoors, coding software and playing Dungeons and Dragons online with other nerds across the universe while they talked about how hot Olivia Munn is.

My spirits sank but my shoulders did not. I was trained to be a thoroughbred and that breeding would not allow this unshaven jerk to see I was shaken on so many levels by everything about him. There was no way I would answer his question, either. Instead of telling him I was Charlie Reed, C.E.O. of Wyntech, his boss, the one in desperate need of his skills, I hastily exited with a mumbled, “Just go back to work.”

Halfway up the hall to my office I felt I was being watched. Glancing back I caught sight of Ethan Cocker taking up the entire doorway to the break room, the empty glass still in hand. He was concentrating on me. He wanted to see what office I went into. Playing detective, he was sussing out who I was.

I opened the door to Brock’s office and walked inside.