The Boss's New Plaything

by Layla Valentine

  The door to my bedroom flung open around five pm, and Chelsea walked in laden with shopping bags. She raised them triumphantly in the air as though I was an ancient god and she had brought me some sort of tribute.

  “Looky here,” she crowed. “It's the solution to all of your problems.”

  I raised my eyebrows in surprise and bookmarked the page of the book I was reading, setting it down on the bedside table.

  “What have you done?” I asked.

  Chelsea rolled her eyes and walked over to my bed, dumping the bags at my feet. “What? Were you going to go out on your date wearing that?”

  I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. Sure, they were a little old, given the fact that I had left them here after moving out years ago, but it wasn't the worst outfit ever. Thankfully, there were a few dresses in the pile of clothes we'd left behind. I was sure I'd find something.

  “I saw a black A-line dress in the pile of spare clothes,” I said defensively.

  “You mean the one I wore to that party at Jane Hausman's in high school?” She snorted. “Trust me, Megan, you don't want to wear that one. It's got bad juju.”

  When Chelsea didn't elaborate, I decided to leave it at that. I didn't want to wear a dress that had bad juju. What if Joel ended up realizing he actually wasn't all that interested in me when I wasn't being all furtive and exciting?

  “Okay, fine.” I poked one of the bags with my toe. “Why'd you get so many?”

  “Because shopping is fun, and I was making decent money at my old job,” she replied. “Plus, whatever you don't like, I get to keep!”

  I was glad to see that her spirit was at least getting back to normal. There was nothing worse than Chelsea in a bad mood, and I had worried that this whole ‘going to jail’ thing was going to sour her mood forever.

  “What will it be?” Chelsea began rifling through the bags, taking me on a tour of the clothes she'd bought.

  “The floral wrap dress? The red halter? The leopard-print corset top and pencil skirt?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You didn't shop with my tastes in mind at all, did you?”

  “Yes I did...” I gave her a challenging look and she snickered. “Okay, fine. I was hoping you wouldn't go for the last two, but the floral wrap dress would be perfect on you.”

  I took another look at the dress she was holding up, angling my head to the side. It looked like it would be quite flattering on my figure, and it wasn't too short, either. I still wasn't completely on board with putting on a dress in this weather, but at least I was getting picked up and dropped off at the door.

  “Fine,” I said. “Wrap dress it is.” I reached for the dress, but Chelsea pulled it back and clicked her tongue scornfully.

  “We've got miles to go before we can even think about getting you dressed,” she said.

  I groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long night.

  By the time 7 p.m. rolled around, I'd been primped and pampered within an inch of my life. Chelsea called it primping and pampering, anyway. To me, it felt more like an endless string of uncomfortable tasks, but the results were nothing short of amazing.

  My blue eyes looked sharp, surrounded by gray, smoky eyeliner. Chelsea had curled my hair into glossy waves that tumbled over my shoulder in a satisfying way every time I turned my head. The dress was a little on the snug side for my tastes, but according to my sister, it was perfect for the date. She had also made me wear a pair of cream, sling-back heels, which made my legs look about eight feet long.

  “You look incredible,” my mother exclaimed when I came downstairs to show her. “Oh, it's like your prom night all over again.”

  I had the sudden urge to vomit, and I wasn't sure whether it was my mother's fussing or my nerves that were making me nauseous.

  “He'll be here any second,” Chelsea said, checking her phone. “Is there anything else you need to do before he’s standing on our doorstep?”

  I frowned. “The only thing I want to do now is go out with the nice doctor who is on his way to pick me up. I swear to God if you come at me with those tweezers again, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

  Chelsea grinned approvingly, even as my mother let out a sigh. Dad was still sitting in the corner of the living room, reading the newspaper and not paying attention to any of us. Nevertheless, he called out, “You look great, honey. Knock 'em dead.”

  I appreciated the sentiment, even if I knew there was no way he could see me without taking his eyes off the paper.

  We all froze at the sound of footsteps on the front porch. I shot my mother and Chelsea a warning glare, hoping it encapsulated everything I needed to communicate to them right now.

  Don't be weird. Don't embarrass me. For the love of God, don't be yourselves.

  Joel knocked on the door, and I floated over and opened it.

  His eyes dropped immediately from my face to the dress that clung tightly to my curves. When he looked back up, there was definite lust in his eyes. My cheeks burned.

  “You look gorgeous,” Joel said. “Wow.”

  I couldn't remember a guy ever saying “wow” about my appearance before. It made my heart sing.

  “You look pretty dapper, yourself,” I said, staring appreciatively at the dark suit that fit him like a glove. I remembered how good his muscles had felt under my touch, and it was nearly as good as they looked filling out his suit.

  Joel's emerald eyes fixed on mine and he extended his hand. “Shall we?” Behind him, a black SUV was parked in the driveway.

  “You don't want to come in and hang out for a bit?” asked Chelsea, butting next to me in the doorway.

  I groaned.

  Mom came forward next. “So lovely to see you again, Joel. Have you been enjoying your time in Seattle? It's beautiful here, isn't it? I've always thought so.”

  “I'm afraid that Megan and I have dinner reservations we have to get to,” said Joel with a twinkle in his eye. “Otherwise I would love to come in and, uh, hang out.”

  I laughed, delighted that he seemed to know exactly how to handle my family after barely spending any time with them.

  “Be safe!” called my mom as Joel led me to the passenger side of the SUV.

  “Make good choices!” called my sister.

  My father stayed out of it, which was frankly the safest place for him to be.

  I got into the cozy interior the car and watched Joel slide in effortlessly to the driver's seat.

  “This car is so nice for a rental!” I commented.

  He grinned. “I’ve got pretty much the same car back home.”

  Ah, yes. Home. How could I forget the most crucial thing there was to know about Joel when it came to the possibility of a relationship? He lived on the other side of the country, sometimes in another country entirely. I had a job on the West Coast, one that I would be hard-pressed to give up, and he too had a job he loved, on the East Coast.

  Joel pulled out of the driveway and started toward downtown Seattle, and I watched the rain streak down the windows as we drove. My deliriously happy mood had wound down to a more muted happy, one tempered by the knowledge that this could be my last ever night with Joel. I was heading home tomorrow, and he would have to head back to his clinic soon. After all, his waiting list was ten miles long. It must have been costing him dearly to be here. It meant the world to me that he was, but I needed to keep that in mind for the evening. I needed to remember that all of this was temporary.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The restaurant was incredible, one of the finest places near the bay, with some of the best seafood in the whole city. I was glad Joel held my hand as the waiter led us to our table, because I wasn't sure I would have been able to keep from running into something, otherwise. The moment we stepped through the doors, all I could do was stare at the beautiful murals all over the ceiling. They were similar to the ones decorating ancient European churches, except they clearly hadn't been done during the Renaissance, and the subject matter was less Biblical and more...seaf
ood oriented.

  Still, the murals were gorgeous, and I couldn't get enough of them.

  When we sat down, Joel looked up at the painted swordfish high above our table. He smiled, and I wished that the artist had painted him up there instead. Joel was an artist’s dream, all lean lines and perfect features.

  “I've never been here before,” Joel said when he returned his gaze to mine. “I know it's risky picking a new place for a first date, but I wanted us to start fresh.”

  The waiter came around with our menus before I could say anything, and after he'd gone, the moment had passed. We both stared hard at our menus, but I was more focused on slowing my heart rate than reading the entrée options.

  After we'd ordered wine and food, Joel turned to me and smiled. “I really meant it when I said you look gorgeous tonight. Though, I'll admit you look stunning all the time, so that's easy for me to say.”

  I glanced down at my lap, then back up at him. “You're quite the charmer, aren't you?”

  Joel took a sip of his wine, and his lips curved mischievously.

  “I can be charming when I want to be. And, admittedly, I always want to be charming when I'm with you.”

  How did he always have the right thing to say?

  “And it doesn't bother you that we met because I was trying to secure the means to start a new life because my twin sister embezzled a bunch of money?”

  “Nope.”

  “What about the fact that you had to come to our rescue? That doesn't bother you, either?”

  “Not even a little.” He leaned forward in his chair, eyes pulling me in magnetically. “The only regret I have about the time we've spent together is that I waited so long to come to see you here.”

  Now here was a surprise. I'd wondered why he’d just showed up when he did, but had since attributed it to a matter of scheduling. He was a busy man, after all.

  “I don't blame you for that,” I said. “I mean, you can basically do no wrong in my book, after everything you've done for me and my family.”

  “I blame myself for that.” His tone was a little softer now, a little more serious. “I felt like I'd abandoned you, and that wasn't my intention. I recognized that based on the strings I'd pulled to get you and your sister out of prison, you might feel obligated to entertain my affections afterward out of gratitude. I didn't want that.”

  I blinked in surprise. “But...”

  But you must know how I feel about you, was what I wanted to say, but I couldn't say that. Sure, he was opening up to me, but that didn't mean I needed to dump all my emotions into his lap. I still couldn't be sure if he wanted more from me, or if we would forever be just Bahamian bang buddies.

  “You didn't need to worry about that,” I said finally. “If I really didn't want to see you, I'd just go back to jail.” I shrugged. “Simple.”

  Joel laughed, though there wasn't quite as much relief in his eyes as I thought there would be. Wasn't it enough to say he didn't need to worry?

  I decided to move the conversation along. “So what brought you over here, then?” I asked. “What changed your mind?”

  Joel leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine idly. “I realized that I shouldn't make assumptions about you, or about your feelings for me. I should just come and find out myself.”

  Ah, so I was going to have to get into the nitty gritty of my feelings. Great. Normally this would be the part where I'd be heading for the door, but a strange urge came over me.

  I wanted to tell Joel how I felt about him. About us. Even if he rejected me, I just wanted him to know that I cared and that I was thrilled he was here.

  “I'm really glad you came all the way out here,” I said. “I missed you.”

  “You did?” His eyes warmed.

  I nodded. “I thought about you a lot when I was, um, locked up. I mean, there wasn't much else to do, but I also just like thinking about you. You make me happy, Joel, and I don't know what that means going forward, because we lead very different lives, but I do know that I felt cold when you weren't there, and now it's like there's a furnace in my chest.”

  “I thought about you a lot when you were locked up, too,” he replied. “Though a great deal of that was just worrying about your wellbeing. And then there were definitely a few thoughts that were a little less...wholesome.”

  My core flashed with heat. How could he bring me from neutral to burning hot in under a second? This man was magic. Pure magic. Nothing would ever convince me otherwise.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked, my face burning.

  Joel gave me a slow, measured nod. “Oh yeah.”

  Our food came, which provided a prime opportunity for me to drain my glass of wine, even though it did little to quench my thirst.

  Once we started eating, the conversation moved into slightly less blush-inducing territory. Joel asked about my parents and my sister, and thought it was a great idea when I told him Chelsea was staying in Seattle for a while.

  “Between you and me,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “That O’Malley guy is a piece of work. Honestly. I talked to him while you two were incarcerated, and I can honestly say I'll sleep better at night knowing that after what your sister did, he'll think twice before he does something like that again.”

  “I'm still so sorry that you had to get involved in this,” I said. “Very grateful, but very sorry.”

  Joel reached over the table and took my hand. “I would do it all again in a heartbeat,” he said. “It was really nothing. I'd be willing to do anything for you. Or for your family.”

  His sentiment took my breath away. I'd never felt quite so secure, like no matter which way I fell, there was a big net waiting to catch me. It was a feeling I wanted to hold on to for as long as possible.

  “Thank you, Joel.” I squeezed his hand and pulled back, intent on finishing my delicious salmon. “And if there's ever a way I can return the favor, I hope you’ll tell me.”

  His eyes sparkled. “I can think of a few things.”

  I blushed and stabbed determinedly at my fish while Joel chuckled across the table. I wanted to launch myself over the table right now and find out what kinds of things he had in mind, but this was a nice restaurant, and it didn't seem proper to tackle a man while he was trying to enjoy his dinner.

  Joel dropped me off at home a couple of hours later. He didn't try to take me back to his hotel room, though I wouldn't have been opposed, and seemed content with a simple goodbye kiss on the porch.

  Well, simple doesn't quite cover it.

  Joel's kiss was electrifying. He immobilized me with the shock of it, crushed the air from my lungs and filled me with such a deep longing that I thought I might cave in like a sinkhole. His mouth stroked mine reverently, teasing and licking until my knees wobbled. The only thing holding me up was his strong arms around my back. The only thing keeping me present was the tang of wine on his lips and the feel of his mouth gliding over mine.

  The kiss was everything, and as he began to pull away; I started to wonder if maybe that kiss had meant something in particular. I began to wonder if maybe it had been a goodbye kiss.

  “I don't want you to go,” I said breathlessly, not caring how desperate it made me sound.

  Joel stroked a finger down my cheek and I shivered.

  “I have to go,” he said. “You've got a flight tomorrow. Your mother would kill me if I kept you up later.”

  “That's not what I meant.” I stepped closer to him, gripping the front of his shirt in trembling hands. “I don't want you to go from my life forever. I want to keep you.”

  “You want to keep me?” he asked, evidently amused. “Like a lost puppy you found on the street?”

  I rolled my eyes but couldn't hold back my smile. “Like a...well, like a person that I'm dating. Or something.”

  The smile that crossed Joel's face could have powered half the state. He took my face in his hands and kissed me again, this time short, but sweet. When he pulled away, he kissed my forehead.

&nb
sp; “You'll see me again, darling, don't you worry.”

  I watched him walk back to his SUV, wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean. Did he not have an ETA of when I was going to see him again? It might be nice to have some notice.

  Just as Joel was about to open his car door, he turned back to me. “Hey, do you know much about Los Angeles real estate?”

  I blinked, shocked, the words not quite settling in. “Uh, no. I rent.”

  “Hmm.” Joel opened the door. “Guess I'll have to consult somebody in the business.”

  With that, Joel closed the door and backed out of the driveway.

  I watched him go, uncertain of what had just happened. Was Joel moving to L.A.? Would he do that? Could he do that? L.A. would be a long way to go for his patients, and truth be told, I wasn't sure the city needed any more plastic surgeons.

  Not that it mattered whether they were in need or not. Joel had something up his sleeve, and I couldn't wait to find out what it was.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  The plane dipped low over the surf, and I could practically feel the salty spray across my skin. I shrieked with joy and smacked Joel lightly on the arm the second he pulled us back up to a suitable cruising altitude.

  “You're showing off,” I scolded.

  He laughed. “Am I not allowed to show off my insane pilot skills to my wife from time to time?”

  “Insane is definitely the correct word,” I shrieked playfully. “One of these days you're going to kill us!”

  Joel laughed and I turned my gaze to the side window so he couldn't see me smile.

  We were flying along an atoll in the South Pacific, exploring all the little islands that were difficult to get to otherwise. When your husband owned a plane, however, you could just pick a spot on the map and go. It was one of the many things I enjoyed about living with Joel, though that was an incredibly long list.

  “Look at that one,” Joel said, pointing off to the left at a little island. I looked over and smiled, loving the way the sapphire sea licked at the edges of the white sand beach, surrounding it in its cool embrace like a lover. The view from up here was always spectacular, but the view inside the cockpit was unparalleled.