Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance)

by Adams,Claire

  I saved my work, got up from my desk, and strode out of the office. It was time for lunch, and I intended to spend it outside. My personal assistant Jade looked surprised as I almost stormed past her.

  “Are you all right, Mr. Sinclair?”

  “Yeah. I'm just feeling, ya know, a little cooped up and frustrated. It's been a long week, and I've been burning the midnight oil every night. Between that and having too much damn coffee, I need to get outdoors for a short while.”

  “All right. I was just about to order your usual Friday lunch from the Lebanese place-”

  “No, don't worry about that. I'll pick up something myself.”

  “Yes sir, Mr. Sinclair. See you shortly,” she said with her trademark cheery demeanor.

  “Enjoy your lunch break, Jade.”

  I hurried off, and as I rounded the corner before the elevator, I almost collided into someone.

  “Lilah! We have got to stop meeting like this,” I said with a grin. “I'm sorry, I almost knocked you over there.”

  She looked up at me and smiled. “That you did! Good thing I have the reflexes of a cat now, isn’t it?”

  I chuckled. “You do seem to have ninja skills!”

  Her smile widened. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, Asher?”

  “Oh, I'm not really sure. I’m just going a bit stir crazy in my office. You know how much work we've been putting in the last couple of days, and I don't think I've been getting enough sleep, and I definitely had too much coffee this morning and…

  “Ah, see, I'm even rambling now. That’s a sure sign I need to get out of the office. I just need to get outdoors to walk around and try relax a little. It's a lovely day outside, and there are a few quiet, picturesque spots nearby that usually help me refocus and rejuvenate.”

  “That sounds really nice. I was thinking earlier about taking a little stroll during lunch. I'm still trying to explore the neighborhood a bit, you know, find good lunch spots and such.”

  “Well, would you like to come with me? I could show you a few places that are kind of off the radar. There are definitely a few hidden gems located in a back alley or two around here.”

  Lilah smiled. “Back alleys, huh?”

  “You’d be surprised,” I offered with a wink.

  “Sure. Let me take these papers back to my office and get my purse. I'll be right with you.”

  “Excellent. I'll wait by the elevators.”

  She smiled again and hurried off toward her office. I couldn't help my eyes from lingering on the way her hips swayed as she walked away in her beige business suit. I tried to force my eyes off of the exquisite curves of her ass which moved so sensually as she went.

  I shook my head to snap myself out of the trance I'd fallen into. I hoped there wasn’t anyone who had seen me staring so intently at her behind. Luckily, nobody else was around.

  After a minute or two, Lilah rounded the corner, smiling as our eyes met. A tingle rushed through to my nerve endings as her gaze met mine. As many times as I had seen her, her striking eyes still managed to stir something in me every time she looked at me.

  “I’m ready to go,” she said.

  I resisted an impulse to take her hand in mine. “Great, follow me.”

  After we exited the building, I pointed across the street. “See that little alley over there?”

  Her head tilted and she studied the direction in which I pointed. “Yeah?”

  “We're gonna head down that way. We're going to Chinatown.”

  “Chinatown? Isn't that a couple of miles away?”

  “If you drive, yes. If you walk through the alleys, though, in a straight line it's only about a mile from here. You do like East Asian food, don't you?”

  “I'm a huge fan of Asian food in general.”

  “Excellent! You'll be spoiled with choices where we're going then.”

  “Are we really going to be able to get there, eat, and get back all within an hour, Asher?”

  I paused and thought about this. My initial plan had just been to get out of the office, have a peaceful walk, relax in the Japanese Zen garden a couple of blocks away, and then grab some takeout that I could snack on during the afternoon. But having Lilah with me changed my train of thought in an instant. Getting all of that done wouldn't be possible in just an hour. Still, I was already feeling recharged and somehow I thought perhaps it was the idea of merely being in her presence.

  “You know what, Lilah? We're not going to be able to do that in an hour.” My philosophy was that one hour of inspired, energized work was worth far more than three hours of moping, uninspired drudgery in which one was just waiting for workday to end.

  She suddenly looked disappointed. “Yeah, I didn't think so. It's all right, we can head around the corner and grab a bite at that little cafe. The bagels are great there and-”

  “Well, hold on a sec now, you didn't let me finish. Don't you find that you work more productively and more efficiently when you're feeling well fed, relaxed, energized, and inspired?”

  “Of course. I can get way more done and do a much better job in general when I'm feeling that way.”

  “Well, then, as your boss—and as my own boss—I'm recommending that we take a two-hour lunch break.”

  “Asher!” she exclaimed. “Come on, we can't bend the rules like that.”

  “Listen, it makes more sense when you really think about it. It's been a long, hard week, right? We've both been slogging away relentlessly, haven't we? Spending way too many hours in the office.”

  “I am feeling a little burned out, to be honest.”

  “As am I. So, if we go about lunch in a rush, we're not really giving ourselves the opportunity to recharge properly, are we?” I inquired using my best defense lawyer voice.

  “I guess not.”

  “If we rush lunch, don’t relax, we’re going to be thinking of the time ticking away and then hurry back into the office feeling frazzled and burned out. And then, we're going to be fighting off sleep while we try to get work done and our minds will be all over the place. The amount and quality of work we get done in the three hours until it’s time to go home will be poor and not so productive at best.”

  She looked at me and grinned, almost conspiratorially. “I see what you're getting at.”

  “Right?” I said encouragingly.

  “So, what you’re saying is, if we take two hours instead, and we relax, eat a good meal, calm our minds, and enjoy our time out of the office without constantly checking our watches, we'll go back into work feeling refreshed and recharged, and get four hours' worth of work done in two hours, as opposed to one-hour’s worth of work in three?”

  “Precisely. See? It makes perfect sense,” I assured her.

  “Well, I won't tell the boss if you don't,” she declared as she winked at me playfully.

  “My lips are sealed. The boss will never know. Oh wait, he already does,” I replied, winking back.

  A thrill rushed through my veins when she laughed. I liked the feeling it gave me—making her smile, making her laugh. It had seemed like she’d been deliberately distant and cool the last few days. Whether that had been as a result of our drunken kiss that night, or simply because she was so focused on work, I couldn't tell, but it had been quietly tormenting me the whole time.

  The truth was, since that kiss, I'd found it hard to get her off my mind. And, her seeming aloofness over the past few days had made me think about her even more.

  Nonetheless, I decided to play it cool and keep a bit of distance of my own. As much as she had been on my mind, I wasn't sure if trying to get closer to her was the best course of action at that point. But those were thoughts I had when she wasn’t in close proximity. The moment she was close enough to touch, all logical thinking went out the window.

  And so, for the next two hours, I just let things flow naturally. I felt so at ease in her presence, so calm and happy with her, that I simply wanted to enjoy the moment without analyzing or overthinking our inter
actions.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let's go to Chinatown.”

  ***

  “It is remarkably peaceful here,” Lilah remarked as we strolled through the Zen garden.

  We paused to watch an old, Japanese man painstakingly raking sand into a number of intricate patterns, and then we strolled across an ornate wooden bridge that crossed over a koi pond.

  “The patterns in the sand will be destroyed in a few hours,” I said. “All of those hours of intense concentration and work will be erased.”

  She looked surprised. “That's…kind of tragic,” she remarked. “It will all be lost?”

  I nodded. “All of it. Nothing will remain. This is the nature of Zen Buddhism—there is no attachment.”

  “How do you know so much about this? You've spent the last hour telling me all sorts of things about Shinto, Buddhism, and now this.”

  “I took an extended sabbatical from the company several years ago. I felt I was losing my focus. I had been struggling to come to terms with the loss of my grandfather's and there were other…family matters, on top of running the company and trying to get it to the top.

  “So, I left it in the control of my grandfather's second-in-command—a close family friend who had been with the company with my grandfather from the beginning and came out of retirement for that short time to assist me—and I traveled for a few months. I spent time with an old family acquaintance in Japan at his remote mountain residence.”

  “Oh, wow, maybe you are Batman,” she joked. “Seriously, though, that sounds like quite an experience.”

  “It was. During the second World War, my grandfather served in the Pacific and he saved the life of a high-ranking Japanese Naval officer, Colonel Tanaka, who was about to be wrongfully executed for crimes he didn’t commit. He and my grandfather became fast friends, and he told my grandfather he owed him a great debt that he was determined to repay.

  “We visited the Colonel a number of times when I was a boy. He lived in an old manor in the mountains which had been in his family for many generations. According to the stories I was told, he was the descendent of a prominent line of samurai warriors, and, like his forefathers, he had maintained the traditions of the samurai.”

  “Wow! That sounds like a movie.”

  “It was kind of like a movie. I mean, the place looked like it must have been built two hundred years ago, with a few modern conveniences thrown in, of course. I loved going and staying there as a boy. My grandfather taught me to speak Japanese as a kid. I was pretty good at it, actually. I still try to keep it sharp by watching Japanese movies when I can, and I do have a few business contacts in Japan.”

  “Nice. I speak Spanish pretty fluently myself, and I could survive in Italy if I had to.”

  “Excellent. Everyone should try to master at least one other language besides their mother tongue, I think.”

  “Agreed. Anyway, tell me more about your time in Japan,” her eyes lit up as she insisted I continue. It was endearing.

  “Yeah, well, like I said, it was great for me. Colonel Tanaka, while in his nineties at the time, was still a skilled martial artist. Oddly enough, he really was a true master in the ways of the samurai. Ways that had been passed on to him from his father and his father's father before that. I told him I felt as if I'd lost my way, and that I needed to find my focus and drive again. I’ll never forget the smile that came over his face when he told me that the time had finally come for him to repay the debt he owed my grandfather. So, he took me in and trained me as if I was one of his own grandsons.”

  “Trained you? In what way?”

  “As a samurai.”

  Lilah's jaw dropped, and I did my best not to laugh at the expression.

  “No way. So, you’re telling me you lived in a Japanese manor that was a couple hundred years old and trained as an actual samurai, under a genuine samurai master?”

  I smiled and nodded. “I did. Every morning I'd be up at four to meditate in front of the shrine for an hour. Then I'd spend the next three hours completing grueling, menial tasks, during which I wasn't allowed to speak a word or display any emotion. After that, I'd begin weapons training, which was followed by more meditation, and in the afternoons we'd perform hand-to-hand combat. The evenings were spent writing old style calligraphy with ink and brushes.”

  “I don’t even know what to say. Wow just keeps coming to mind. This is totally not something I'd have expected from a…”

  “A what? Someone like me? A financial mogul? A billionaire? Or let me guess, a playboy billionaire? I mean, that is the rumor, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she replied, with a subtle blush coloring her cheeks.

  “Well,” I said with a conspiratorial smile, “you might want to learn to expect the unexpected from me.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she offered, smiling softly. “So how did it all end up then?”

  “Well, I’m here now, so I found my focus. I found my way. I bolstered my discipline and became, in mind and body, a warrior. Colonel Tanaka truly did repay his debt to my grandfather in full. He saved my life, without a doubt.”

  “Saved your life? How so?”

  “Before I went, I felt like I was spiraling out of control. The stress was getting to me. I wasn’t handling it well.

  “After I returned, I found that the company had been in decline, despite the best efforts of my grandfather's trusted friend and former advisor. However, with my newfound sense of drive and purpose, instead of throwing in the towel, I was able to not only turn things around, but turn The Sinclair Agency into what it is today. In the years after I returned from Japan, I found the intensity of focus and purpose I needed to take us to the top and beyond. And in my personal life, as well, I found more peace than I'd ever known before.”

  I couldn’t believe I had just told Lilah so much about myself. Only my parents and a couple of very close friends knew about my time in Japan. Of course, I didn’t share everything with her that was flooding my mind. I wanted to add that an unfulfilled longing still remained even after I’d returned from training with Colonel Tanaka. I'd done everything on my own up to that point and even after I’d returned, and I’d been quite happy doing things by myself.

  Or, so I'd thought.

  In recent years, I'd begun to feel as if the close companionship I'd always told myself was an unnecessary burden wasn’t actually so unnecessary. Perhaps being alone, being entirely independent, wasn't such a great thing. Perhaps surrendering myself to another wasn't a weakness. Perhaps, in some ways, it required a strength and a depth of courage I'd never before been able to access.

  But, again, I didn't say those things to Lilah—I couldn't, not just yet.

  “Do you have any interesting souvenirs from your time there?” she asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. I have a few suits of samurai armor and a number of weapons that I keep on display at my place. I've also had a Japanese garden, much like this one, constructed on the grounds near my home. I like to walk there when I can, and when I have time, I'm learning to do sand art in the way the old man over there is doing. But, by far, my most prized memento of my time spent with Colonel Tanaka is a sword.”

  “A samurai sword?” she asked with a glint of curiosity.

  “Indeed. It had been in Colonel Tanaka's family for generations, and had been forged by a blade master three hundred years ago, the steel folded and hammered a thousand times. According to Colonel Tanaka, the edge is still as razor sharp as it was three centuries ago; it's a true work of art. He gave it to me as a parting gift.”

  “I'd love to see it sometime.”

  Her statement took me by surprise. The last thing I was expecting was for her to suggest spending more time with me in any manner. Much less in a setting as private as my home. But I wasn’t about to turn down the chance to spend time with her.

  “You should. I have a lot of fascinating pieces and artifacts. I am definitely something of a collector.”

  “And I happ
en to have a great interest in history,” she remarked, but then, all of a sudden, a cold look entered her eyes; it seemed as if she regretted what she had just said for some reason. “Look at the time,” she noted as she pulled out her phone and checked it. “Our extended lunch break is almost up. We'd better be getting back.”

  “Yeah,” I said, somewhat wistfully. “I guess we should.”

  We walked back to the office in relative silence, but I couldn't stop stealing glances at Lilah.

  I also couldn't stop wondering what was going on in that beautiful head of hers.

  CHAPTER 8

  Lilah

  “Come on, Lilah, you can do this, you can do this,” I repeated as I paced in front of my desk.

  As if Monday mornings weren’t dreaded enough, try adding a presentation to the docket that could make or break your career with a company. I was scheduled to give my presentation on my proposed revamp to the Harry Winston campaign in less than thirty minutes and there was a lot riding on it. With every breath, it felt as if thousands of butterflies were swarming around inside of my stomach. I inhaled deeply and made my way to my private bathroom.

  “You’ve got this, Lilah. Your ideas are good and they are going to work, they will—you just have to present them in a way that enables the senior team—and, of course, Asher himself—to see this,” I said to myself as I applied a few final touches to my makeup in the bathroom mirror.

  My cellphone alarm sounded, vibrating on my desk, signaling that it was time to make my way to the boardroom for the meeting to start. I drew in a deep, calming breath, held it in my lungs for a while, and then exhaled slowly.

  “You’re ready. You can do this,” I encouraged myself one last time as I stared into the mirror.

  I strode out of the bathroom, exuding as much confidence as I could muster. While I may have felt nervous inside, it would not do to show it on the outside.

  Calm, collected, confident. This was the image I needed to pull off at the moment. I picked up the folders I needed from my desk and headed into the hallway.