Bossy Neighbor

by Erika Lynn

  I sucked in a quick breath. I’d been thinking the exact same thing.

  “Someone doesn’t want you to make it to the meetings,” I suggested. “But they would know that I would try to find you.”

  He stood abruptly, placing his hands in his pockets and walked over to the large floor to ceiling window that overlooked the city.

  “Find out who is changing the meetings.”

  I wrote down a note to do just that, not so much because I needed the reminder but more so because I needed something to do. The intensity of his anger could be felt from across the room.

  “I'll need you to update me on what happened.”

  He peered at the notebook in front of me. “I assume you took notes,” he said. When I nodded, he did so in return. “Good, let's go over them later. Find time on my calendar.”

  I began to protest. “But you're booked the rest of the day.”

  Looking at his watch, he smiled. “Well, my 11 a.m. seems to have opened up. Early lunch?”

  Hope flared inside me. Why did he suggest lunch? Was it because he had such a good time last night?

  I tried squashing that hope like a bug.

  He was my boss. And nothing more.

  Dante made that clear with his icy reception this morning.

  But now he was back to being friendly.

  It was enough to make my head spin.

  The back and forth was dizzying.

  Then I remembered. “You already have a lunch.”

  Aha, saved from having to make up some excuse.

  Dante clicked his tongue. “I forgot,” he said, smiling ruefully. “That’s why I have you.”

  Then he once again stopped with the playful tone. “We will do dinner again.”

  The look he gave me challenged me to say no.

  But, of course, I couldn’t.

  My mind and body were at war with one another. I enjoyed our last dinner too much. Logically, another dinner was a bad idea. Even if there was nothing romantic on his end of it.

  DANTE

  I did it again. Accidentally asked out my assistant.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  I could have just asked Kate to share the details of the meeting right then and there in the conference room, but for some reason, dinner popped into my head instead.

  Especially since I couldn’t do lunch. Besides, dinner was better.

  Suddenly, that seemed like the only viable option.

  It didn’t mean anything deeper.

  Or did it?

  I had a few friends in the city I could call up and spend time with. I didn’t exactly need the company of the woman working for me. But I wanted it all the same.

  That’s how I found myself once again knocking on Kate’s door after work, picking her up for our second dinner in a row. A quick glance at my watch showed I was a couple minutes early.

  Kate’s door flung open.

  I paused, staring at her. She wore only a towel.

  “Shit,” she swore, slamming the door in my face.

  Stunned, I just stood there. “Do you need a minute?” I said, my voice a few octaves lower than normal.

  “Yes, please,” Kate yelped.

  It took a few seconds for my brain to start working again, all the blood having rushed elsewhere. “I’ll just wait at my place. Knock when you are ready.”

  “Okay, I might be a few minutes.”

  Patting the door, I said, “Take your time.”

  Fresh faced, glowing and smelling of floral body wash, Kate caught me totally off guard.

  Normally so put together, this version of Kate felt so care free—not the buttoned up, well-suited worker I’d come to know her as.

  Not that I had much time to check her out.

  Eventually, I found my way back to my apartment. Getting next door had somehow become an epic journey, equivalent to that of Frodo in Lord of the Rings.

  Grateful for a few minutes to calm myself, I walked to the kitchen, in need of a cold glass of water. I tried to focus on baseball to calm the hardened member in my shorts.

  A few minutes later I realized it was getting late. It would take at least a half hour to get to the restaurant I had in mind. By then, we’d be rushing to get through dinner and back home.

  It was a work night after all.

  With it decided, I searched for the number of the Thai restaurant around the corner and placed an order for delivery. Not knowing what Kate liked, I got a little of everything. Noodles, curry, the lot of it. Surely, there’d be something she’d like.

  A tentative knock sounded on my door ten minutes later.

  I opened it to find Kate looking stunning in a form fitting black top and tight jeans, the blush in her cheeks the only indication that she was embarrassed by the towel incident.

  “I’m ready.” She motioned her head towards the elevator, indicating that we could go.

  I pulled her inside, Kate gasping in surprise. “Change of plans, we are eating here.”

  Frozen inside the foyer, Kate stood stock still as I made my way to the kitchen to pour us each a glass of wine. “I hope you like red wine. I found a Cabernet in the wine rack.”

  Swallowing audibly, Kate said, “Yep. That’s my favorite. I bought it for you before you moved in.”

  I looked up from where I was removing wine glasses from the cupboard. “Thank you,” I told her, surprised by how much the thoughtful gesture meant to me.

  Somehow, she kept doing that. Surprising me. And I found myself enjoying it more than I should.

  It’d been a long time since I’d been taken care of.

  Years since being burned by my last relationship, I stuck to more temporary experiences with women.

  It was safer that way. And more comfortable.

  I didn’t need anything more than that.

  Or at least I hadn’t thought I did.

  Suddenly, being alone didn’t hold as much appeal as it once used to.

  The doorbell pulled me back to the present. Kate stood where I left her, not having moved a foot. “Why don’t you go finish opening the wine? I’ll get the food,” I suggested.

  Luckily, she listened and her feet unglued themselves from the wooden floors.

  It didn’t take long to get the food and tip the delivery man. By the time I made it back to the kitchen, Kate had uncorked the bottle of wine and was only just beginning to pour it for us.

  She sniffed the food. “Thai?” Kate guessed.

  “Yep, I hope you like it.”

  “It’s one of my favorites,” she confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “Is it from Thai Basil around the corner?”

  My brows lifted. “It is.”

  “Oh good, that’s where I go too.” She smiled, relaxing slightly. “I guess this means we aren’t going out,” she said on a laugh.

  I lifted a shoulder. “Figured this would be easier and save us some time.”

  Kate’s eyes bulged.

  I suppressed a grin, desperate to know what she was thinking.

  “So, we can focus on your debrief,” I clarified, suppressing my amusement. Curious what was going on in that head of hers.

  Her neck craned, trying to get a good look at the living room space.

  “I haven't done much yet,” I explained. Truth was, I hadn't done anything yet to make the space mine. I had other concerns to focus on.

  Kate turned her attention back towards me. “Well, I suppose it's only been a few days.”

  Cracking open the food, I prepared for us to eat. Spoons to ladle out the curry and rice. A fork for the pad Thai.

  Kate procured a couple of plates and began loading hers with a little bit of everything. When she finished, she looked between the table, the couch and the stools at the kitchen island. “Where should we sit?”

  I motioned towards the couch with my head. “We'll be more comfortable there.”

  Nodding, she headed in that direction, as I worked to dish food onto my own plate.

  Food in one hand, wine i
n the other, I moved to the living room where I found Kate sitting in the wingback chair across from the couch.

  Bemused by her choice in seating, I spread out on the couch, my big frame taking up space.

  After taking a few bites of food, I decided we might as well get started.

  “Tell me what happened at the meeting. But start from the beginning when you realized the meeting had been moved.”

  After dabbing her lips with her napkin, Kate dove in recounting everything from the calendar change to the exact number of materials needed for the project.

  “I've typed up the meeting notes for you as well. I'll email them over in the morning and they can be found in the electronic project file, as well as the hardcopy folder you have in your office.”

  I drank deeply from my wine glass. “Thank you for covering for me.”

  Kate waved me off. “It's my job.”

  I disagreed. While leaning forward, my forearms resting on my thighs, I told her so. “Nobody else tried to get me for that meeting. Only you.”

  I watched as she swallowed, anxiously moving around in her seat. Not wanting her to be uncomfortable, I stood, holding my hand out for her plate.

  Once I set the plates in the sink to clean them later, I refilled both our wine glasses.

  Kate became visibly more relaxed when talking about work. It was her wheelhouse. But I knew she would clam up as soon as we finished talking. “Stay for one more drink,” I told her, handing over the refreshed glass.

  She saluted, lifting her wine in the air in appreciation.

  “Do you know who changed the calendar item on us?” I asked.

  She clasped her glass in both hands as if bracing herself. “Jeanine technically changed the calendar item. That much I know for sure, but I have no idea who asked her to do it.”

  “Remind me who she is.” I racked my brain to recall the name, but had a good guess who she worked for.

  “She's the lead admin for a few of the members of the senior leadership team. Darrell, Joel and Bianca.”

  I watched as worry tightened Kate's mouth into a line. “It’s fine, I know this isn't Jeanine's fault,” I assured her.

  Her eyes pierced mine. “Good.”

  I rubbed my hand through my scruff, the little hairs coarse against my palm. I wasn't sure if Kate would like what I had to say next. “Do you think you could find out who asked her to change the meeting time?”

  She blew out a breath. “I'll try,” she said. “Jeanine's a good person and I don't want her caught in the middle of all this,” she started. “But I also want to figure out who is behind it. They must be checking your office to know you aren't there or aren't paying attention to your emails.”

  I finished my drink. “I agree. And since I’ve been working on a site these past couple of years, I’m not accustomed to being tethered to my phone. I’m out of practice checking it every two minutes.” Getting up, I rounded the couch to bring back the bottle of wine to top us both off. Finding it almost empty, I went back to the wine rack to open another one.

  “Damn, we don't have another bottle.” I searched the cupboards just in case.

  Kate stood. “I have some at my place. I'll be right back.”

  I cleaned up as Kate popped next door. A minute or two later she returned with a bottle identical to the one we just finished in her hand, setting it down on the counter in front of me. “I guess it really is your favorite brand.” I chuckled.

  Kate made a surprised face.

  “What is it?”

  She bit her lip as if deciding whether to tell me or not.

  “Just say it. I won't be offended, I promise.” I coaxed her.

  We both stood on different sides of the rectangular island. She placed her elbows on the granite countertop. “It's just that you rarely laugh. It almost sounds weird coming out of your mouth.” Then she straightened and made a crossing motion with her hands. “But don't listen to me. What do I know?” She tried laughing it off. “You almost finished with that wine there?” she asked, pointing to the unopened bottle.

  Snapping to it, I uncorked the bottle, refilling our glasses after Kate slid them both in my direction.

  When the glugging of the wine stopped, I decided to address Kate's comments.

  “Between my father's cancer diagnosis and taking over the company, there hasn't been a whole lot to laugh about,” I confided. It felt surprisingly good to do so. Only a few people knew about my father and I could tell without a doubt that Kate was discreet.

  Just as she did the day before, Kate leaned in to squeeze my hand, her body practically on top of the island. We shared a sad smile and when Kate attempted to release my hand, I didn’t let her.

  Instead, I intertwined our fingers, taking her to the couch.

  KATE

  Suddenly, the wine hit me. I was a little drunk on wine and a lot drunk on Dante.

  I could smell him as we made our way to the living room, his spicy cologne overwhelming my senses.

  Dante sat me down on the plush leather sofa, before taking a seat.

  On the opposite end of the couch, I pushed as far away from him as possible, not trusting myself. Dante was still my boss after all.

  And this time we didn't have a coffee table to divide us.

  But curiosity got the better of me. “So, what does make you laugh? What do you do when you aren’t off being a billionaire boss-man?”

  His eyebrow lifted. “You know we don’t have that much money, right?”

  “Puh-cha,” I said. “It might not be that much, but it’s pretty damn close.” And I should know. I had access to a lot of private information in my position.

  I’d resent the fact that Inferno Construction drew in so much money if I weren’t paid handsomely myself.

  I knew how lucky I was. Not many admins in my position were well paid and got to grow their career as well.

  But that didn’t seem to matter right now. What mattered was the man sitting across from me.

  Feeling bold, I tucked my leg underneath me and turned my body toward him, the wine sloshing precariously close to the edge of the wine glass as I did so.

  Dante reached out. “Steady,” he said, grabbing my wrist.

  Another zing.

  Did he feel them too? His hand applied a little too much pressure before he released my wrist from his grasp.

  Clearing his throat, he reluctantly agreed. “I’m certainly lucky my father has made Inferno Construction such a success.” He sounded a little more formal than he had been. As if money and his position acted as a wall between them.

  I supposed it did. But I had to know the answer to my question. Playfully, I poked his arm. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Dante focused on the spot on his arm where I touched him, not bothering to look my way. “I like to read,” he said.

  He adjusted himself in his seat. Okay, he didn’t adjust his you know what; he just adjusted so that his body was turned more towards mine. Mirroring my position.

  I swear he moved a little closer to me in the process.

  Needing the liquid courage, I dumped the rest of the wine into my mouth.

  A laugh burst from Dante’s chest. “Impressive.”

  I thrust the empty wineglass into his hand. “More please.”

  With a sly grin, Dante took the proffered glass and said, “As you wish.”

  I watched as he brought the bottle over to the living room, before refilling my glass and topping off his own.

  “What do you like to read?” I asked. “Personally, I love a good historical fiction. I also love romance. They are just so fun and feel like an escape, you know?” Once I started talking, I found I couldn’t stop. I named several of my favorite authors and Dante looked amused by my antics. “I don’t think you said what it is you like to read?” I circled back around to my question.

  He smiled. “You’re right, I didn’t have the chance.”

  I made an inpatient motion for him to come out with it. All of a sudden
, I couldn’t wait one more minute to find out.

  “I enjoy all types of books, but mostly non-fiction. Some true crime.” He shrugged it off. “Right now, I’m reading the latest in Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan series.”

  “Oh, I love that series! I mean, I haven’t actually read it, but I did watch season one on Amazon.” I tucked my other leg underneath me, so I wasn’t quite sitting on my heels, making myself comfortable against the buttery leather. “Have you seen it yet? If you haven’t, you need to.”

  Dante chuckled. “I haven’t seen it, but when some time opens up, I’ll make sure to check it out.”

  I held out my pinky finger. “Promise?” I leaned forward as if this were the most important promise Dante could ever make in all his life. Suddenly, I wanted him to watch it. No, needed him to watch it.

  He stared at my outstretched finger, gave his head a brief shake and reluctantly extended his pinky to meet mine.

  Promise made, my tense muscles relaxed, giving way to the wine.

  That was really good wine.

  “You know,” I mused, “we could watch the show together if you’d like. I have Prime.” With my index finger, I absently twirled along the top of the glass, my breath held waiting for a response.

  “We’ll see,” was all Dante said.

  It wasn’t a no.

  I took in his face, which didn’t betray a lick of what Dante was feeling. That man could close himself off like a bank vault.

  The soft light of the room only highlighted his strong features. His chiseled jaw. His wide, kissable lips. The stubble that seemed to pop up before his first coffee of the day. Hints of salt and pepper the only indicator that he was a few years older than me.

  My body longed for the man across from me. To feel those lips touch mine. To have his scruff rub against my inner thigh as his long, thick tongue licked my pussy.

  Suddenly flushed, I reached for the bottle of wine, promising myself that it would be my last.

  But Dante held out a hand to stop me. “It’s getting late, Kate.” His voice sounded strained.

  My watch confirmed he was right. For the second night in a row we’d been up late together, drinking wine and having the conversation veer into our personal lives.