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Published by Penelope Elle
Everybody knows that dating someone from work is a terrible idea. Being friends with benefits with your boss, the Wall Street demigod and highly anankastic lawyer with a four-digit IQ? Brilliant.

After all, they did mention that he doesn't suffer fools gladly.
Everybody knows that dating someone from work is a terrible idea. Being friends with benefits with your boss, the Wall Street demigod and highly anankastic lawyer with a four-digit IQ? Brilliant.

After all, they did mention that he doesn't suffer fools gladly.

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Published by: Penelope Elle on Nov 09, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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It was a busy Monday morning, and the long line of weary faces at Costaproved the point. Aidan waited patiently, going through his emails on hisBlackberry as he stood in line. Realizing that the queue was being heldup longer than usual, he looked up from his phone to see a blondewoman in a suit, sheepishly rummaging through her bag for some loosechange.
“I‟m so sorry, I‟m sure I have it in here somewhere.”
 The cashier rolled his eyes, contempt written all over his face, andtapped his foot impatiently as the flustered woman struggled to find thecash for her morning coffee. Irked at the nonchalance of others, Aidanwas reaching for his wallet to help out when the brunette in front of himbeat him to it and kindly proffered the necessary quarter. The blondewoman thanked her, grateful at the simple gesture of kindness, and he
watched the brunette laugh off the situation with a friendly grin. That‟s
when he noticed that she was very pretty.She had the clean, sharp features that were so popular with high streetmodels these days: deep set eyes, defined brows and a perfect nose.But while the models were dead set on looking bored, glum and justplain cool, her 
face carried a smile with such ease. He would‟ve kept
looking, but his phone buzzed angrily with a new email, and after shooting back a quick reply, he looked up and she was gone.By 11 in the morning his temples were throbbing. The draft of papersneeded for the Heyland acquisition were a mess, littered with poorlycrafted clauses and overtly gimmicky language
but worse still, he wasin one of his moods. Clicking about revealed the criminal who authoredthe offending document
a certain Gwyneth Kenner.
He‟d had a bad morning, and wanted to defuse, so he picked up thephone on the desk and punched 0. “Lucy, please send me –
Kenner. Thank you.” Scrolling through the document revealed a
progressively expanding mass of absolute gibberish, punctuated by the
timely knock on the door. “Come in.” And that‟s when she stepped in.
 This was Gwyneth Kenner? The brunette from coffee this morning? Shestood in front of him, her hands placed awkwardly behind her back, asshe greeted him hesitantly. He was surprised, but it passed in aheartbeat
the blood pounding in his head a reminder of the ghastlydocument on his computer.
“Right, Ms. Kenner. I have here a copy of your work for the Heyland file,
and I just want to know what the fuck you‟re trying to do
over here,
because for the life of me, I don‟t see a reason for you to still be on thisteam.” His voice sounded like bullets being fired out of a gun.
Shock rippled through her pretty face, although she remained
composed, and quickly became puzzled. “But…” she paused “…but I‟mnot on the Heyland file. I‟m with the Brooks and Whitmore merger, andhave absolutely nothing to do with the Heyland account.”
“So would you mind telling me why your name is on this document?”
 he swiveled the screen to face her. Bewildered, her eyes scannedthrough the document, widening at what she saw, her frown deepeningas she went along.
“This…isn‟t my work.“ she scrolled through rapidly "I‟ve written this
part before. Months ago. This was for the RBS fund project
but - how-
She was clearly at a loss for words. Aidan leaned back in his chair and
ran his fingers through his hair. “Of course. Plagiarized document. Andthe birdbrain who did this didn‟t have the brains to fucking change t
author‟s name on the document,” he punched at the phone again. “Lucy,who is updating me on the Heyland file? Gavin Cross. I see. Thank you.”
He hung up.
Gwyneth closed her eyes. Of course it was Gavin.Scheming little bastard. Pretty boy could never get anything done right,
and trust him to have leeched a file off her computer when she wasn‟t
looking. She rolled her eyes and breathed sharply, unwilling to face the
man behind the desk. The atmosphere in the room couldn‟t get any
more awkward as she stood there, feeling wrong footed
like a child
being chastised in the principal‟s office on mistaken grounds.He broke the silence. “Well, I‟m terribly sorry about that,” he said, in amuch warmer tone. “It was very rude of me, and I take full responsibil
and I‟m sure the original work was well worth copying.” He gave a wry
smile. She half-smiled in return, too terrified to reply, and hastily excusedherself from the office.
Holy hell. Aidan Scodelario was every bit as intimidating as she‟d heard
out. The prized son of the firm‟s founding family –
educated at bothOxford and Yale, he had a reputation for being one of the brightestminds in the legal field. His summer internship at Bear Sterns rocketedhim to fame, even though he was all but nineteen of age - and as he satfor his final exams, he was already consulting major banks on the finer points of floating stock trades and investment bonds.
But that wasn‟t all about him. „Demanding‟ was the word most commonly
used to describe him
having been around the brightest minds since hisschool years, he expected no less from the people he worked with, andthe icy glare he gave so freely earned him the office nickname Berg
 short for iceberg.
Being alone in the same room as him for the first time, and being socoldly interrogated by him allowed her to understand why he was so
terrifying. He had inherited his father‟s ice blue eyes, a blue so pale they
were almost crystal, accentuated by his uncharacteristically highcheekbones and a strong, angular jaw. Seeing that face clenched taut inanger had scared her into a stuttering, stumbling mess, somethingcompletely unlike her real self, and she had to admit that he was a forceto be reckoned with, beyond the office myth.She staggered back to her desk,
still shaken by the experience. “Oooh,”
Dylan Foreman, who sat in the desk opposite hers, leaned forward
eagerly, “What‟d he say to you?”“He thought I did the Heyland forms and asked me what the fuck I
thought I was doing. And believe it or not, I think that was his opening
sentence to me.”
“Whoa, that‟s pretty brutal,” he nodded, making a sturgeon face. “Butwait, you‟re
“Yup. Told him that, and get this –
Gavin took my agreement for the RBS
deal last year and worked his magic on it, “
she paused for effect “thensubmitted it to the berg.” Dylan‟s face lit up in a grin of disbelief.“No way!” he chuckled “Well it could‟ve been worse,” he offered, trying to
console her.
“Trust me, it was bad enough on its own. The man‟s a living night
mare. I
mean, would it kill him to not be so intimidating every once in a while?”
“Oh come on, he‟s not that bad.”
“Oh, really? How about you go into his office and help me get some filesI need? I mean, since you‟re not scared of him at all…”
“Not a chance in hell. You know, I‟m pretty sure if anyone was going to
be Batman, he would be. He seems just like the type who roams the
night as a vigilante, beating bad people with high tech gadgets…” hemade punching motions in the air. “Just sayin‟.”

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