One Night with her Boss (2 page)

His shoulders stiffened, and his square
jaw clenched. “My knee is fine.”

“No, it’s not. You were limping
yesterday because you were at your desk for sixteen hours on Tuesday. How long
have you been kneeling here looking in that drawer? You can’t do that to your
knee.”

She knew her tone was too tense and
urgent, so she tried to dial it back. There was no reason to react this way,
anyway. She just got so upset when Jake refused to make the most obvious steps
to take care of himself, as if he thought work was more important than his
health or his needs.

“I told you my knee is fine.” His voice
was guttural, almost a growl, and his eyes looked like steel in the florescent
light.

She reached down for his arm. “I’ll get
the file for you. Would you please get up off your knee?”

With an exaggerated sigh of impatience,
he hauled himself up to his feet, not quite managing to hide the wince as he
straightened his bad leg. Now he was looming over Anne, even in her four-inch
heels. “Fine. Happy?”

She wasn’t happy. Sometimes he was so
stubborn he made her want to scream. “Why didn’t you ask me to get the receipts
for you?”

“You were on the phone. Am I not allowed
to search through my own files?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve told you over and
over again. You end up putting things in the wrong place, and it takes me hours
to find them again.” She grabbed the file from his hand, glanced at it, and
then leaned over to slide it back into place and then push the drawer closed.

“I still need the—”

“They aren’t in that drawer. They’re
over here.” She walked over to the opposite wall, her heels clicking on the
floor. She smoothed down her skirt, since it felt like it had gotten twisted
slightly. She vaguely hoped her ass didn’t look as big as she’d thought it did
this morning. She leaned down to open the correct drawer and rifled through
files quickly until she found the right one.

Jake had followed her over, and she
could feel him bristling behind her as she turned around to hand him the file.

He stared down at it. “Why aren’t the
receipts in the February drawer?”

“Because the receipts are all over here.
If you would let me keep the records electronically, we wouldn’t have this
argument every other week.”

“Do you really think I’m going to trust the
last ten years of my life to a computer? You’ve got to be crazy. I could lose
everything with a key stroke.”

He’d always been kind of a Luddite. A
lot of the time she found it adorable.

Not today.

It bothered her unreasonably that he
evidently thought the last ten years of his life were only about building this
company. As if he was nothing but his work.

She cleared her throat. “Keeping paper
records means you could lose everything to a fire.”

“The cabinets are fire proof.”

She shook her head. “Fine. It’s your
business. Your files. You can keep ancient paper records if you want. But you
aren’t allowed in here. If you want something, ask me.”

He stepped a little closer and braced
his arm on the cabinet next to her shoulder. “Who’s the boss here anyway?”

She could tell his mood had changed. He
wasn’t angry. He was still bristling, but also almost dryly amused. The transformation
of his expression left her breathless, as did his proximity.

Her eyes were right at his chin level,
so she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. “I’m not trying to be the
boss.”

His mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
“You’re pretty bossy, to not be trying to be the boss.”

She swallowed hard, clenching her fists
to keep herself from putting her hands on his chest. When he was like
this—clever, dry, focused on her—she always seemed to want him the most. “Well,
I’m the boss of this room. You’re the boss of everything else.”

“Is that how it works?” He braced his
other hand on the cabinet, trapping her between his arms.

“Yes.” She was flushed all over and
suddenly conscious of the ache of arousal between her thighs. She had no idea
when that had happened. “That’s how it works.”

She could see that he was breathing
quickly too, and he looked as hot as she felt. Something new had blazed up in
his eyes, and for a moment she was sure he would kiss her.

But he didn’t.

Of course, he didn’t.

She was his assistant. Not his
girlfriend.

“Okay then,” he muttered, dropping his
arms and stepping back.

“Okay.” She was almost shaking, her body
primed and ready for something to happen. When clearly nothing was going to
happen.

Not at nine o’clock in the morning in
the file room of the office, when all Jake would ever be to her was her boss.

He turned abruptly and walked out, and
Anne leaned back against the file cabinet and tried to pull herself together.

Could she be any more foolish?

She’d never thought she was weak and
spineless, but maybe she really was.

Spending two years of her life wanting a
man she could never have.

When she returned to her desk, Jake’s
office door was closed. He closed his door when he was having a private
conversation—either on the phone or in person—or when he was in a bad mood. He
never closed it at any other time.

She wondered what he was doing in there.

She sat down in front of her computer
and tried to make herself finish reviewing the marketing proposal.

No reason to think about Jake. He was
nothing but her boss.

An hour later, her personal phone rang.

She’d gotten her dream job with that
marketing firm.

Later
that day, Anne was running late for lunch with Meg and Ranie, her two best
friends and roommates.

Jake had emerged from his office a
couple of hours ago with half a dozen projects that needed to be completed
today, so she’d been too busy to think much about the job offer or what she was
going to do about it.

She also ended up fifteen minutes late
for lunch.

“You look gorgeous,” Ranie said, when
Anne finally collapsed in a chair at their favorite lunch bistro. “If Jake
didn’t want to rip your clothes off in that skirt, then I don’t know what’s
wrong with the man.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “He didn’t want to
rip my clothes off.”

“How do you know? Maybe he was manfully
hiding his raging desire.”

Anne couldn’t help but laugh at Ranie’s
wry tone. “There was no sign of raging desire. I’ve pretty much given up on
that, you know.”

“No, you haven’t,” Meg put in. “No use
to lie to us.”

“Maybe not. But I should have. A long
time ago.” She smiled at the server who came over with a glass of water for her,
and then she ordered a Greek salad.

“Well, you have that date tonight. He
sounded promising.” Ranie was pretty, blonde, and tiny. And the loudest person
Anne had ever met. “Maybe he’ll sweep you off your feet so you forget all about
Jake.”

“Well, he might not be sweeping me off
my feet tonight. I might have to go to San Diego.”

“That’s ridiculous. You weren’t supposed
to go out of town again until next week.” That was Ranie again, sounding
outraged, although Meg was frowning at the news too.

“I know. But something came up, and we
may have to go. It should just be for the night, but I’d have to reschedule the
date. Anyway, that’s not even my biggest news.” She tried to sound excited
rather than confused and overwhelmed, which was how she felt.

She obviously didn’t fool her friends.
They looked at each other. Then Ranie asked slowly, “Is it bad news?”

“No. Good news. I got the job.”

“The marketing one?”

“Yeah. It sounds great, and the salary
is good.”

Meg was giving her a narrow look. “Then
why don’t you look happy about it?”

“I am happy.” Anne sighed. “I guess I
have no reason not to take it.”

“Why wouldn’t you take it?” Ranie asked.

“I would. I’m going to.” As she said the
words, she realized they were right. Of course, she needed to take the job. It
would be absolutely ridiculous to not take the job she really wanted because
she didn’t want to leave Jake.

“You can’t put your life on hold for
him,” Meg murmured. “You never have before. The job was good for you
before—with your mother and everything. But, if you don’t take this job now,
then you’ll be putting your life on hold for him.”

“I know. I’m not going to do that. I’m
going to take the job.” She straightened up, trying again to feel excited.
“It’s just…it’s going to be hard to leave him.”

“Yeah, but maybe it will be the kick in
the ass he needs to get his balls together.”

Anne shook her head at Ranie’s choice of
words. “I think there’s some sort of mixed metaphor in there. But, really, he
doesn’t need a kick in the ass. He’s a great boss. And there’s no reason he has
to feel for me the way I feel for him.”

“But he does feel the same way. He just
hasn’t done anything about it.”

Anne tried very hard not to let her
friends give her unjustified hope with their loyalty to her, so she took
Ranie’s comment with a very large grain of salt. “He really doesn’t.”

“Did I or did I not see him at our
Christmas party last year?” Ranie demanded.

Anne sighed. “Yes, but—”

“But nothing. Did I or did I not see how
he couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night? And did I or did I not see how I
could barely drag him away from you when the party was over?”

Last Christmas had given Anne similar
thoughts. They’d invited everyone from her office to the party, but she’d been
surprised when Jake actually showed up. He always took the staff to lunch for
Christmas and gave them all very nice bonuses—which was the extent of his
holiday spirit. But he’d showed up after all, and then he’d spent the evening
talking and laughing with her. She’d felt pretty, desirable, almost giddy from
the look she’d thought she’d seen in his eyes that evening.

It had fed her hope too much, so she’d
been crushed even more than ever when the New Year came and he acted exactly
the way he always had with her.

Like her boss.

“That was just a…” Anne trailed off,
dropping her head briefly. “He was just in a good mood that night. It didn’t
mean anything.”

“It did mean something. I saw his
expression when he looked at you. He’s crazy about you. I still think he’s just
holding back because he’s your boss. Maybe this job is what he’s waiting for.
When you’re not working for him, he’ll finally make his move.” Raney looked
characteristically enthusiastic about this idea.

“Maybe he is,” Meg added, before Anne
could argue. “But you should take the job because you want it and not because
you’re hoping it will be the catalyst for getting together with Jake.”

“I know. I do want the job. And I have
no delusions about Jake waking up and suddenly wanting me once I’m gone.”

“But maybe he will,” Raney chimed in,
irrepressibly.

“And maybe he won’t. It’s not about him.
It’s about Anne. And, if this is what she wants, then it’s good no matter what
Jake does.” Meg gave Raney a stern look. Then turned the same look back onto
Anne.

“Right.” Anne nodded, feeling better and
determined now to give notice this afternoon, to make it real, to get it over
with. “It’s about me. And a great job. And finding a guy who actually wants me.”

“Or who’s willing to actually take what
he wants.” Raney grinned. “Because we all know that Jake is secretly crazy
about you.”

Anne smothered a groan and just shook
her head instead.

Sometimes she wondered if Raney
exaggerated the optimism to show Anne exactly how silly it was to be holding
out hope for Jake to ever return her feelings.

Because it was simply stupid. Jake had
had seven years to make a move on her, and he hadn’t ever, not once, made a
single move.

Only an idiot would keep holding onto
hope.

***

As
soon as she returned to the office after lunch, she went to stand in Jake’s
doorway, determined to tell him before she lost the nerve.

He was scrawling something out on a
yellow pad.

He liked to brainstorm with pen and
paper, so he was probably just working out some ideas that she would later have
to translate into legible form.

His thick hair was rumpled, and his tie
was askew. He must be feeling stressed, since those were the first signs she
looked for.

He glanced up and saw her, immediately
straightening up. “Hey. Can you print out all the emails between me and
Marshall Long since June?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it now. Then do you have
a minute to talk?”

His eyes widened in obvious surprise.
“Sure.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She went to her desk, found the emails
he wanted, and set them to print. More trees had to die because Jake liked to
hold paper in his hand rather than read from a screen.

She was about to walk over to the
printer when she noticed for the first time a wrapped present on the corner of
her desk.

It was wrapped in solid blue paper with
a pink bow stuck on the top. She knew who it was from.

Jake must have bought a huge bag of
those pink bows at some point, because he always stuck them on his presents.

She also knew what the present was. Some
sort of book on surfing.

He gave them to her on birthdays, at
Christmas, on Secretary’s Day—or whatever they called it now—and sometimes he
gave them to her just because. When she first started working for him, she’d
admitted that she’d never surfed before and had never even wanted to. He’d
teased her about how she needed to learn, and he’d bought her a book on surfing
as some sort of light-hearted encouragement.

Since then, he kept giving her books on
surfing. It was their thing. Some were expensive coffee table books with
beautiful, glossy photos. Some were cheaper paperbacks. A few were novels. One
was a children’s book. The single unifying characteristic was that surfing was
somehow featured in the book.

Today, she felt a familiar ache of
affection in her chest as she slid her fingers down the fold to disconnect the
tape. The book she unwrapped was old—very old with thick, aging pages and a
faded cover.

She opened the cover and saw it had been
published in 1942. It was the real-life story of a group of surfers on the
California coast.

She flipped the pages, amazed and
delighted by the formal language and the antique feel of the book. Where the
hell had he even found this old thing?

After looking at it for a few minutes,
she laid it on the low bookcase behind her desk that held the rest of the books
he’d given her.

Then she made herself put aside her soft
feelings and stand up. It was time. She needed to tell him about the job offer.
She needed to give him two-weeks’ notice.

And a sweet gift wasn’t going to change
it.

She was going to have to leave him. She
could barely imagine life without him, which should be a clear sign that she
was in too deep here and it just wasn’t good for her.

She grabbed the stack of pages from the
printer on her way back to his office. He was back at his scribbles and didn’t
look up as she came in.

She set the printouts on his desk and
then sat down in a side chair and waited.

After a moment, he looked up, evidently
realizing that she was waiting for him. “Oh,” he said, “You wanted to talk
about something.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the book, by the way.
Where did you find it?”

He gave a shrug. “Some old bookstore.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“What else would I do with a book on
surfing?”

“Put it in one of your shops,” she
suggested. Jake’s surf shops had been so successful because he’d designed them
for people to spend time in rather than just buy surf equipment and get surf
lessons. They sold snacks and beverages, offered clothes of all kinds, had large
book sections with comfortable chairs, and a variety of charming gifts. The one
in Malibu even had an art gallery above the shop. “Maybe you could add a
section of rare books to—”

“It was for you.” For some reason, he
looked a little grumpy. He frowned at her.

“Okay. Anyway. Thank you.”

“You had something to talk about?”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I need
to tell you something.”

He must have heard something in her tone
because he put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, watching her closely.

She tried to start talking, but no words
left her throat when she opened her mouth.

After a moment, he said, “What did you
have to say?”

“I got a job offer.”

He stiffened visibly. “What?”

“I got a job offer. A good one. A
marketing job.”

“What are you they offering you?”

It wasn’t the reaction she’d been hoping
for. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was hoping for—maybe for him to suddenly
see what he was about to lose and fall on his knees to propose to her—but it
wasn’t this. He sounded matter-of-fact. Business-like.

“More than I’m making here, but that’s
not really the—”

“I’ll match it,” he said, without
hesitation.

“Jake, I’m really not—”

“I’ll go five-thousand over whatever
they’re offering.”

Again, he sounded like he was making a
deal. Not losing something he cared deeply about.

Of course, he wasn’t. That wasn’t who
she was to him.

She took a slow breath. “It’s not about
the salary. You’ve always been generous in that regard.”

He had, although living in this area was
so expensive that she still didn’t have much money to spare.

“You’re not even going to give me a
chance to give you a counter offer?” He was still stiff, although his voice now
had a rasp to it.

“There’s no counter offer to make here.
It’s a marketing job. That’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve liked being
your assistant, but I don’t want to spend my entire career in this position.”

He stared at her for a few moments with
gray eyes that looked strangely urgent. Then he said, “I’ve given you more
responsibilities. You have the ability to advance here. I hadn’t realized you’d
wanted to—”

“I wasn’t expecting you to keep giving
me new job titles. You don’t seem to understand what the issue is. It’s not
that you haven’t treated me well. It’s that this is not the job I want.”