by Emma Hart
“Hmm.” He accepted the wallet back from the server and thanked them. “Are you ready to go?”
I hadn’t expected him to say he felt the same as I did, but the way he’d brushed it off still bugged me a little. I wasn’t hurt, per se, but I was annoyed. He hadn’t even acknowledged it.
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go.”
I gathered my purse from by my feet and double checked that I had everything in there. I did, so I stood, pushing my own chair back in.
I was feeling too slighted by his outright dismissal of my feelings to care if he wanted to be a gentleman. And damn it, I’d open my own fucking car door, too.
I walked out of the restaurant ahead of him, not speaking. He was my boss, sure, but right now, that wasn’t the positions we held.
Thanking the hostess before I left, I beelined for his car in the parking lot. I wasn’t entirely sure which one it was, so I was more than a little thankful when he unlocked it and the flashing lights confirmed I was correct.
I got in the passenger side, with Cameron following me on the driver’s side only seconds later. He hadn’t even tried to get my door, so apparently he was smarter than I gave him credit for.
I didn’t say a word as we drove. Neither did he. The silence was tight and uncomfortable, and I made sure I never made eye contact with him throughout the whole thing.
I was humiliated.
Completely and utterly humiliated.
It was just one more thing to add to my list to mistakes, and I was sure that tomorrow, I’d get to add my job to it, too.
What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be a functioning fucking adult? Of all the men in the world, I had to feel this way about my boss.
My fucking boss.
Anger bubbled inside me. I could feel it, twisting and turning as it flooded my body with heat. The last thing I wanted was for my cheeks to flush in case Cameron thought it was about it, but it was inevitable.
I wasn’t a pretty angry person.
The difference here was that I had to keep my temper if I wanted any chance of keeping my job. I knew he’d probably fire me tomorrow, but it was what it was.
I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t change it. I could only accept it.
Which was what I did as Cameron pulled up outside my house.
Without giving him a chance to speak, I unbuckled my belt and threw out a quick, “Thank you for dinner,” as I shoved my way out of the car.
I wanted to wrestle my way inside. I wanted to lock the door and run to my room, locking that door, too. Then I wanted to kick off my shoes, dump my purse, and throw myself onto my bed to cry.
Not because I was sad or heartbroken or anything. Crying was the ultimate stress relief, and I was faced with a situation I’d been in so many times before: being fired.
All I wanted was to move back out and get my life under control. I wanted to find love and keep it and not set anything on fire or cause any natural disasters in the process.
So I did just what I wanted to.
I went inside, bypassed my family entirely, and disappeared into my room, where I locked the door, took off my shoes, and screamed into my pillow until I cried.
And you know what?
I felt damn good doing it.
***
With my humiliation all cried out, the next morning, I dressed to conquer the world.
Well, not entirely. I was reasonably sure I’d need some form of weapon, and I probably wasn’t the best person to entrust a deadly weapon to.
Instead, I wore my second-best dress which happened to be a little black number that gave me the confidence of a thousand witches ready to rise against humanity. Paired with the heels I’d worn at the weekend and a red blazer, I slicked my signature red lipstick onto my lips.
Then, I looked into the mirror, nodded, and prepared to take on the world just as I’d intended.
The world wasn’t really the subject, but a hot guy was most definitely just as tricky.
I arrived at work twenty minutes early so I could get myself sorted. A glance at the calendar on the computer told me I had two hours until Cameron arrived at the office, and I was going to use them to be the most efficient fucking assistant his ass had ever seen.
Starting with his desk.
I kicked off my shoes, grabbed a trash bag, and went into his office. The information was all so outdated, and his drawers were full of crap, so I busied myself sorting out everything in the room until I was satisfied it was up to the current year’s standard.
I’d probably still missed something, but I’d been successful all the same.
I tied up the trash bag and left it in the corner of the kitchen before I headed back to my desk. I slipped my heels back on and got back to work.
I was already dreading when he got to the office. There was no way we could carry on like usual, and all I could hope for was that I didn’t get fired.
I had big dreams.
Not.
I had a nervous tick. A bad one. Of tapping my right heel every few seconds, like my leg was hitched up to some kind of electrical resource.
Taptaptaptap.
It didn’t stop until Cameron’s familiar footsteps sounded on the stairs. Then, I froze, turning my body toward the computer and making sure not to look in his direction.
He didn’t speak to me either, instead bypassing me entirely until he was in his office. The click of his door was loud and final and instilled an odd sense of hope into me.
Unless he was going to delay the inevitable, of course.
I didn’t know. I was winging it. I had no idea how he’d take my cleaning of his office combined with the admission that I wanted to climb him like a tree.
Like I said.
Winging it.
I needed that on a t-shirt. If that wasn’t an accurate description of my life, I wasn’t sure what was.
Cameron’s door opened again, and when I looked, he’d poked his head around it.
“Mallory? Can you come in here?”
No.
“Sure,” was what I actually said as I stood and swiped my hands down my butt and over the backs of my thighs. My heels clicked against the floor as I carefully walked into his office.
He glanced at me as he pushed the door to, leaving it ajar, and sat down in his chair.
The chair I sat in was comfortable.
I was not.
I swallowed as he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt, then sat back in his chair with a sigh.
“It’s okay,” I said quickly. “I know you’re going to fire me.”
Cameron’s eyebrows shot upward. “Fire you?”
“Yeah. It’s awkward, isn’t it? We can’t work like this.” I shrugged one shoulder, even as sadness slithered through me. “It’s fine. I understand. No hard feelings.”
I got up and walked to the door. There was a squeak, and his hand grabbed my arm before I could leave.
“That sounded a lot more like a resignation than it did me firing you,” he said in a low voice.
I shrugged again. “Whatever. I know what you’re going to do.”
“Do you?”
I tugged my arm out of his hand. “We’ve known each other ten days. My attraction to you makes my position untenable and this entire situation completely awkward. Of course you’re going to fire me.”
“I probably should.” He spoke slowly, his gaze steady as it held mine. “It’d be easier if I did.”
“See? There you go. It—”
“I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about the fact I’m attracted to you. I wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen if a relationship didn’t work out. I wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than dating you.”
I tried to say something but…nothing.
Nothing came out.
Nada.
Not a damn thing.
My mouth was so dry that swallowing was a struggle, and I still couldn’t talk.
Cameron sighed, lips curving u
p after. “Did you think it was one-sided, Mallory? The only reason I didn’t say anything last night was that I wasn’t sure if I should. I decided this morning that, like you, I had to be honest, so here I am.” He held his hands out and shrugged. “I’m attracted to you. I think you’re adorable and beautiful and funny, and if you’d like to resign so I can woo you without the complication of being your boss, I can’t say I’d be sad to see you go.”
I folded my arms across my chest at that. “Really? You’d have me quit just so you can date me easily?”
“No, I’d fire you, but I’m not doing that. I’m letting you resign so you could date me.”
“I’m not going to resign.”
“I’m not going to fire you.”
“Then what the hell do we do now?”
“You can do whatever you like, but I’m going to kiss you.”
He took one step toward me and pulled me to him, then touched his lips to mine like a starving man. He swept one hand around the back of my head, and I melted against his body, curling my fingers into his jacket.
Heat—desire—tingled from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
Something inside me told me this was wrong, that I had to stop it, but whatever that stupid little voice was had been overridden by the rest of my body. The rest of me was enjoying the fact that his lips were on mine and his hands were slowly pulling my body right against his.
And I was letting him.
His kiss was like magic running through my veins, and I wanted nothing more than to be under this spell until someone physically pulled me from it. All the frustration I’d felt last night, all the anger I’d harbored since I’d admitted how I felt washed away from me in one fell swoop.
I just wanted to live this—this kiss. Wanted to enjoy the moment of this, just in case I never felt it again.
Slowly, he pulled back, never releasing his grip on me. “I half-expected you to slap me.”
“I considered it after last night,” I said in a low voice. “And I still might.”
“I can take that.” His lips brushed mine as he spoke. “Now what?”
“What do you mean, now what? You’re the one who kissed me. You decide.”
His fingers tightened their grip on me. “No. If I decide, we’re both bunking off work today, because I’d like to toss you onto my bed and see if you slap me then.”
I blushed. “Depends how hard you throw me.”
Oy, look at me flirting! Ay-yai-yai!
He pressed his mouth against my forehead and silently laughed.
The decision was made for us when the phone rang from my desk. I was almost glad—I wasn’t sure I was ready to decide what happened next, mostly because I had no fucking idea.
I’d expected to get fired. Instead, I’d gotten kissed.
I was taking that and running with it.
I was a little breathless when I sat down, and it wasn’t because I’d run over here in heels. I had to take a deep breath and hope that steadied both my breathing and my rapid heartbeat as I answered the phone with my usual message.
I handled their request with ease, and when I put the phone back down, I felt a pair of eyes on me.
Cameron.
He was standing in the doorway, adjusting his pants—something that made me fight a smile—and staring at me. “I need you to do something for me.”
Uh-oh.
My mouth went dry. “What?”
“Those shoes. As hot as they are, I keep having visions of you breaking your damn ankle.” He glanced at them and back up at me. “Change your fucking shoes.”
He darted back into his office, leaving the door open.
And I laughed.
Then took off the shoes.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – MALLORY
“Are you seriously bringing me coffee with bare feet?”
I wriggled my toes and put the cup down. “You told me to change my shoes, and I don’t have any others with me. It’s this, or I risk spilling coffee all over your desk again.”
Cameron moved the mug and coaster a couple of inches away from me. “We both know you don’t need to be wearing heels to do that.”
“I know, but it reduces the risk even further. That’s a plus.”
“You know, there’s a reason people say not to mix work and pleasure. Getting coffee from someone with bare feet might be it.”
I laughed and moved so he couldn’t see my toes. “I’m not sure what that has to do with work, but if I’m ever in your kitchen, I can guarantee I’ll be barefoot.”
His lips quirked. “And pregnant?”
“Unless it’s an immaculate conception, not likely.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is this one kiss and you’re laying out a future?”
“Not with you standing there with bare feet, I’m not.” He snorted. “I hate feet.”
“All right.” I held up my hands with a shrug. “I’ll go put the heels back on. I hope you’re willing to carry me to the ER when I inevitably trip over a paperclip and break my leg.”
“Just walk really, really slow.” He paused. “How did you make it up the stairs?”
“Divine intervention.”
“You took them off and put them back on, didn’t you?”
I sighed. “Yeah.”
His laugh was low and sent a little shiver down my spine. “Why are you even wearing heels? You wear flats every day.”
“You notice that?”
“Of course I do. I look at your shoes so I don’t get caught staring at your ass.”
My eyebrows shot right up. “You’ve been staring at my ass?”
“I’m not even going to justify that with an answer.” He shook his head. “Just like you weren’t talking to my belly button the other day.”
I sat down in the chair reserved for clients and pointed at him. “Hey. It’s not my fault. It’s like a homing beacon down there.”
He stared at me flatly. “Why the heels? Is it because you thought I’d fire you for wanting to get me into bed?”
“What is this? Is it open season for flirting here now?”
“Would you prefer I ask you to get out of my office?” He raised one eyebrow. “Or is it because you’re not good at flirting?”
“How do you know I’m not good? I could be a master flirter for all you know.”
He said nothing. Just blinked at me.
I sighed again. “Fine, I’m a terrible flirter. It comes with the disaster side of me. Honestly, I’m running out of good things to say about myself.”
Cameron leaned back with a smirk. “You’re a great sidekick when someone’s being hit on.”
“Ooh, yeah, that’s what every man wants. For the girl he’s dating to be good at stopping other women hitting on him.” I paused. “Actually, that’s not such a bad thing. But sidekick isn’t a great term for it. And we’re not actually dating, but whatever.”
“We could be dating.”
“We’d have to go on a date to be dating.”
“So let’s go on a date.”
“It’s not exactly the romantic dinner offer in the movies, is it?”
“Sorry. I’ll buy rose petals next time.”
I rolled my eyes. I was starting to wonder what I’d gotten myself into here.
Cameron leaned forward on the desk and gave me a lazy, sexy smile. “Come on. It’s what we’d do if we didn’t work together. One date isn’t going to hurt.”
I didn’t think it was going to hurt if I told him I was attracted to him, but that had.
“I’ve only been here a week or so. Of course it’s going to hurt.” I hesitated. “It’s not like I’ve been here six months and we’re going on a date.”
“So don’t tell anyone.” He lifted the mug to his lips. “We don’t have to take out a billboard on the highway, Mallory. Didn’t you listen to my mom’s story about how she and her dad met?”
“Yeah, but I listened to like twenty of her stories that night, and they’ve all kind of blurred into one.”
He
laughed. “True. They dated for a year before they told anyone. Dad didn’t know how my grandpa would react if he said he was dating his assistant, so they kept it a secret.”
“But didn’t they know each other before he hired her?”
Cameron shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. They weren’t close friends or anything—they knew each other in passing and because they moved in the same social circles.”
“Which we don’t.”
“True, but you’ve met the women who move in mine.”
“I have. Tall, slim, beautiful.”
“And total bitches,” he finished. “I prefer clumsy brunettes with crazy old relatives.”
I pursed my lips. He was trying to systematically wear me down, and damn it, it was working. I’d been adamant from the start that this wouldn’t happen because there was nothing more awkward than working with someone you’d broken up with.
“Okay, so we date. What happens if it doesn’t work out? If you decide that the clumsy brunette with crazy old relatives isn’t what you prefer?” I raised an eyebrow. “We still have to work together, right?”
He pushed up from his seat and walked around the desk, then perched on it right in front of me. “That might happen if you don’t put your shoes back on.”
I glared at him.
Laughing, he reached out and pushed hair behind my ear. “If it makes you comfortable, we won’t go on a date. We’ll just sit here in the office, behind our desks, constantly being attracted to each other while imagining the other naked.”
“You imagine me naked?”
“Do you imagine me naked?”
“This feels like a trap,” I said slowly. “I know—if we get to Friday and you still want to go out with me, I’ll let you take me on one date, in secret, after work.”
“You’ll let me, will you?”
“Yes. I’ll let you.”
His lips curled into a smile that said he was more amused by me than anything. “You’ll let me,” he drawled.
That was all the warning I had before he leaned down, cupped the back of my neck, and kissed me so deeply I felt it all the way down to my toes.
I almost moaned when he pulled away because his kiss had felt so good. It was unfair. He was playing dirty and he knew it.
