My New Boss Lights My Fire - Ch 1
Can a curvy volunteer firefighter like me find her hero in the shape of a guy twice my age, who just happens to be my new boss?
Angel
I fight fires on my days off. In my day job I’m a secretary in a one-man band lawyer’s office. Then my boss announces his early retirement. I thought I could lose my job until my new boss arrives and a whole other opportunity is on offer.
Beau
I might be twice her age, but when I see her at that desk, on that first visit. I knew. She was worth so much more than a tiny desk and a worn out coffee machine. I’ve always been a sucker for curvy women, but add brains into the mix and I just can’t resist.
Can Angel focus on work, with her gorgeous new boss scrutinising her every move?
Will Beau keep his eyes on his spreadsheets with Angel and her lush curves just feet away?
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My New Boss Lights my Fire
Ch 1 - First Impressions
I guess the one thing about my work is I get so meet loads of guys. The thing is, they’re just not my type. Or weren’t until that day.
I’m a firefighter. Yes, you hear me right. I fight fires. In my spare time. In my day job, I work in a tiny one man lawyer’s office as a receptionist. The jobs couldn’t be more different. By day I’m sat at a tiny slab of ancient oak tapping into a computer, accepting courier deliveries and answering the phone. In the evening, I’m running round a fire yard wearing a breathing mask and squirting water for fun.
It’s not so much fun when we get a job. As rare as they are, to save someone from their own house because someone left the old laptop on the bed or fell asleep and left the pan on. The ultimate stress, but rewarding as fuck.
I’m the only woman on our station, and the only woman in the local law society, hence the surplus of guys. But firemen don’t do it for me. I guess seeing myself in the heavy, stinky, sweat inducing uniform has removed any attraction to it. Plus, most of the guys are friends with my dad, who, yes, you guessed it, was a firefighter before he retired.
In the office, I see people arranging wills, or getting out of sticky legal situations. Neither is attractive to me, a law-abiding woman with a few too many curves. I thought running around in uniform would help me get fit, and it did, but I still have what I call a comfy body. Build for comfort, not for speed. Isn’t that what they say?
I’m sounding cynical, which isn’t me, as I’m quite happy with my life. I work hard, of course, enjoy helping people, and I get the adrenalin rush I need too. I’d just like to meet a guy who isn’t squirting water, arranging his grandkid’s legacy plan, or going to prison in a week’s time. Not too much to ask. Actually, I don’t meet too many people in trouble, we don’t do criminal law. But they do sometimes call in, and we refer them on. Not one of them has tempted me to break my unofficial rules about who I date or not.
All these guys, but no one I want to go to dinner with, let alone kiss, snuggle up to, or go to bed with.
Then he walked in.
It was a Tuesday morning. We’re closed on a Monday, so we can open on Saturday morning. My boss likes to be accessible to everyone. Bless him.
He’s old school and a lovely guy. Took over the office from his father, will no doubt be here for the next five years then retire. He doesn’t have kids though, so guess he’ll sell up then. Shame to see the name disappear, but life goes on. My gorgeous little desk with probably end up in a skip. A fast-food restaurant or another charity shop will probably move in.
Wonder what will happen to the woman who has lived in the flat upstairs ever since I can remember?
I sat checking emails and scribbling notes for the various answer phone messages left over the weekend when I heard the tiny doorbell ping. It’s literally a bell. Like you see on old murder mysteries on TV on a kind of spring thing that gets knocked when the door opens.
I flicked off the machine, asked the caller to wait one minute whilst I…
Hot damn. I nearly dropped my pen.
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