Adam raised his brows at me and his dark stare never wavered. Yeah, he’d known me a long time. We’d been good friends since our freshman year at college. He knew when I was full of shit, and today I was full to overflowing with it.

“You’ve got two weeks and I’m yanking everything if it doesn’t look good.”

I almost howled in frustration. “How about a month? There’re a lot of bankers…some of them are not located nearby.”

He continued to stare at me, and I knew what his next words were going to be before he even said them. “Two weeks, Jordan. And then I’m pulling the plug.”

Fucking hell.

Adam straightened, unfolding his arms. I clenched my jaw so tight my head ached. Without another word, the boss turned and left the room, firmly shutting the door. I picked up the legal pad on my desk and flung it in the direction where he’d left. It slapped against the closed door then slid to the ground.

Goddamn this. It got worse and worse with each minute. It had started as your ordinary shit hangover Monday and devolved into this crap situation. I was now an anonymous Internet star featured in a sex tape that had gone viral and was about to tank my company’s biggest project since it had been founded.

All because I’d gotten shitfaced and then, in my stupor, decided it would be a great idea to bang the hot intern in the elf costume.

I was never drinking again, damn it all. Glaring at the door that Adam had shut, I jumped at a sudden knock. That meant it wasn’t Adam returning to dump any more ultimatums on me.

“Come in,” I growled.

Tentatively, the door cracked open, and then, inch by inch, it slowly widened. A dark head poked in. And there she was, the author of this miserable situation—Miss April Weiss.

Her silky dark hair hung over her shoulders as she gave me a timid look. This morning I’d been staring at her ass, remembering how hot it had been to do her that night, drunk or not. Remembering those deep-throated husky moans in my ear and the feel of her—shit. I didn’t know whether I should be turned on or pissed off. Right now, it felt like both.

Because she had recorded it and uploaded that shit to the Internet.

Those dark blue eyes met mine, a question in them. “Hey, Jordan. Just checking to see that I got your lunch order right. Charles said you do Subway on Mondays.”

Her gaze flicked to the untouched meal and the door widened. Now she was in the office, wearing that form-fitting skirt and that thin, tight sweater that clung to her lush breasts. My fist tightened at my side. Two weeks ago, I’d fucked a cover model—eight times in a three-day span. This girl was nothing special, hot hookup or not. I looked away and swallowed.

“I wasn’t hungry,” I growled. I was so goddamn pissed off I couldn’t even look at her.

She almost tripped on the legal pad that I’d thrown at the door. Her dark eyebrows pinched in a frown as she scooped up the pad and moved to the table, her shoulders slumped slightly—as if somehow my rejection of the goddamn sandwich reflected upon her performance of her new job. My eyes went back to her face again, drawn like magnets. She was beautiful—fresh, glowing skin, shiny hair and those blue eyes. Perfect features. Christ, the lady in HR in charge of assigning interns must have been smoking crack when she put this one in my office. Like throwing chum in a shark tank.

I’d known she would be my assistant and that it was risky to do anything, but the moment she’d said “anonymous,” it had been too tempting to turn down. Anonymous, yeah, but broadcast to billions. I studied her serene features, attempting to find evidence of a cold-hearted conspirator underneath.

Slowly, April started tucking the food back into the bag. “I’ll clear this out and put it in the fridge in the break room for later.”

I blew out a breath, stood and stormed out of the room without another glance at her. I headed straight for Adam’s office. Maggie, his assistant, tried to wave me off, but I barreled right past her and entered.

Weston, the publicity guy, was there, showing him something on his tablet. Adam was poring over it. Weston looked up, clearly offended that I’d interrupted his private time with the boss. He was not my biggest fan and the feeling was mutual. Tough shit. I needed some private time of my own. Adam must have seen that in my face immediately, because he straightened and handed the tablet back to the now dejected-looking Weston.

“We can go over the rest later. Thanks, man,” Adam dismissed him.

Weston glared at me until he passed by my shoulder and I shrugged. When the door shut, I began by clearing my throat. “Two weeks isn’t long enough—”