He smiles, and his deep blue eyes crinkle around the edges. “I’ve moved on.”
I nod, not sure how to counter that.
“But I respect your wishes,” he says.
That’s a relief, because I don’t want to have to keep fending him off, yet I don’t want to stop spending time with him either. I’m about to suggest that we go back out on the dance floor when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I look behind me and see Drake standing there. I hold back a gasp as my heart reels.
“Hello, Ashley,” he says in a perfectly calm and controlled voice. His eyes are locked on me.
“Drake. Hi.”
His gaze slides to Jonathan, and he holds out his hand. “Colton Drake.”
Jonathan stands to face him, an uncertain smile on his face. “Jonathan Barton.”
I stand as well, not about to be left out of this. I smile at Jonathan with more confidence than I feel. “Drake, I mean Mr. Drake, is my new boss.” Then I glance behind Drake as I try to locate the brunette.
“She’s in the ladies’ room,” Drake says to me, obviously noticing my search.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t know you enjoyed dancing,” Drake says, his gaze back on me.
“Well, we hardly know each other, Mr. Drake.” I smile to soften the impersonal way I’m talking to him—but it was his demand that we pretend like the cabin stuff never happened. I’m just obeying orders.
He nods, like he doesn’t know what to do with me.
“There you are, Drake,” the brunette says as she comes up beside him and wraps her arms around his waist.
My eyes go to her face, and I blink, trying to hold back the daggers that want to shoot out.
“Patrice,” he coos, then kisses her on the cheek.
What the hell? Why is he doing that in front of me? Is it to punish me for being on a date? Or does he think I don’t care about him like that? Confused, but also pissed, I thrust my hand out to the woman. “Patrice, hi. I’m Ashley. Drake’s assistant.”
She looks at my hand like it might bite her, then she gingerly places her hand in mine. “Hello.”
I plaster a smile onto my face, release her hand, and turn to Jonathan. “This is Jonathan.”
She nods at him. “Hi.”
He smiles at her. “Hello.”
My gaze shifts to Drake. “Well, it was nice seeing you.”
His jaw clenches as he stares at me, but he doesn’t say anything.
I turn to Jonathan. “I’m ready to dance some more. How about you?”
He smiles, but I can tell he can feel the tension between Drake and me. “Yeah.” He looks at Drake and says, “Nice meeting you.”
“Yeah,” Drake says without conviction. “You too.”
Then Jonathan takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor.
“That was weird,” he says as we find a spot to dance.
I shrug, not about to explain the complicated relationship I have with Colton Drake. We rock to the beat, and though I try to stop myself, my eyes keep straying to Drake and the brunette, who have moved back to the dance floor. They’re several couples away from us, so I’m only able to see glimpses, but when my gaze stops on them, there’s no mistaking that the woman wants to lay claim to Drake.
“Everything okay?” Jonathan asks, and I realize I’m staring at Drake.
Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice me watching Drake and his date. My gaze goes to Jonathan, and I smile weakly. “Yeah.”
His smile pulls me back into his orbit and I try to forget about Drake and Patrice. A while later I want to see what Drake is doing but see the back of his head as he and his date walk towards the exit. Once he’s gone, I find I’m able to enjoy myself much more.
DRAKE
Even though it’s early, I decide to take Patrice home. This date had been my attempt to turn my thoughts from Ashley, and I’d given it my best try. But it had taken every ounce of my self-control to not yank Ashley into my arms and claim her as mine.
Even though I’m not sure it was a good idea to talk to her, it had seemed like the thing to do at the time. But the way she’d acted like she barely knew me had really gotten under my skin and I’d been tempted to say something to remind her that we were much more than employer and employee.
Then I’d reminded myself that I’d been the one to hire her, and I’d been the one who’d insisted on both of us forgetting about our time at my cabin.
You’re a real genius, Drake.
ASHLEY
When Jonathan and I reach my apartment, he walks me to the door. “That was really fun,” I say. “Thanks for taking me.”
He smiles. “Anytime, Ashley. You’re a great dancer.”
“So are you.” I smile. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”
He nods, obviously understanding that I’m not going to invite him in. He steps closer to me, and I smile to let him know I’m okay with him kissing me. He slides his arms around my waist and gazes down at me. I watch his face, and when he leans closer, I tilt my head so that our lips touch. After a lingering kiss, he releases me, and though I enjoy the feel of his body pressed against mine, I know I will regret it if I do more than share a kiss with him.
When I still don’t invite him in, he smiles. “Good night, Ashley.”
“Good night.” I unlock the door and let myself in, and he walks back to his car.
Emily isn’t home yet, so I go to bed and think about Drake.
Over the weekend I spend a lot of time reading Lord of the Rings. Somehow it makes me feel closer to Drake, which I know is dumb, but it’s the truth.
On Monday morning as I get ready for work, my mood is all over the place—eager to see Drake, nervous to face him after seeing him at the club on Friday night, jealous that he has a woman in his life who he’s obviously dating.
When I finally reach my desk, I’m a hot mess of emotions.
“Ashley,” he calls from his doorway. “Come into my office.” Then he turns and walks inside.
Nineteen
ASHLEY
Heart pounding, hands sweating, I don’t want to face him, but I know I have no choice. He’s my boss, after all. I lick my suddenly dry lips, pick up my notepad and pen, and walk towards his office. I stop in the doorway and he looks up from his computer to meet my gaze.
His expression is unreadable.
I step through the doorway, terrified to find out what this is about. He looked so pissed when he saw Jonathan’s arms around me. And then the exchange between the four of us at the dance club had been beyond awkward.
I sit in one of the chairs across from his desk and our eyes meet. I want to ask him how his date with Patrice was, but my mouth is so dry that my tongue seems to be stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“I have a problem,” he says.
He has a problem? What about me? I’m in love with my boss and he doesn’t seem to know or care. I don’t respond, waiting to see what he’s going to tell me.
“I have to go out of town later today, but tomorrow I have some people scheduled to come to my house to replace tile that they installed poorly the first time. I want to make sure they do it right, and I don’t want to have to reschedule.” He stares at me. “I need you to work from my house tomorrow and make sure they do the job right.”
My eyes widen as I consider all the ways I might screw this up. “I don’t know anything about tile installation,” I stammer.
He gazes at me. “Learn about it then.”
“Okay.” I am so not a do-it-yourself kind of person, but I don’t want to disappoint him.
“Good.” He picks up a key sitting on his desk and holds it out to me.
I stare at it a moment, not quite believing that he wants me to go into his house—alone. What about Patrice? Why doesn’t he ask her? I almost voice my thoughts, but decide that would be unwise and accept the key.
He takes a small sheet of paper from his desk and holds it out to me as well. “Here’s my address, and the crede
ntials to log in to my wifi.”
I already know where you live. My face reddens a little at the thought, but I take the paper from him and glance at it like I’ve never seen his address before.
“You can use your GPS to find it, I assume?”
I nod, then before I can filter myself, I ask, “Where are you going?”
“To meet with a potential client. I’ll be back on Tuesday night.”
“What did they do wrong the first time? The tile installers, I mean.”
He scowls. “They didn’t level the tiles properly, and the height is uneven throughout the kitchen.”
I nod, then make a note on my notepad to study tile installation. When I look back up, Drake is staring at me with an expression I can’t interpret.
“I’m glad to see you’ve made friends in the short time you’ve been in town.” His tone clearly states the opposite, then he clenches his jaw. “How long has it been? A week and a half?”
He seems angry that I’m dating someone, which makes me angry. What does he think I should be doing? Sitting home every night not thinking about our time at the cabin? My pent-up feelings make me bold and I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Yeah. No one warned me that there were so many hot men here.” I stare at him a moment like I might be talking about him, then I say, “My roommate was thoughtful enough to set me up with one of them.” I smile. “Jonathan’s awesome at dancing . . . and other things.” Of course all I’ve done with him is dance and share a few kisses, but Drake doesn’t have to know that.
His eyes narrow for the briefest of seconds, then he says, “You certainly get around.”
My heart drops. Now he thinks I’m sleeping around—and why wouldn’t he? Especially after I slept with him when I’d barely met him. “It’s not like that,” I say with a note of desperation, wanting to correct his opinion of me.
“Uh-huh.” He taps the keys of his laptop, then looks at me. “I have a lot of work to do before my trip.”
I leave his office without another word.
That went well.
DRAKE
The thought of her being intimate with anyone but me makes me beyond livid, and I stand up and begin pacing my office. I remind myself that I have no claim on her, that I basically told her that our relationship has to remain professional. What do I expect her to do?
Still, I can’t abide the thought of her being with another man.
I stop in front of the floor to ceiling windows and gaze at the view. The snow-topped mountains calm me and I think about my trip. I’m glad I have a legitimate reason to not see her for a day. I need the space.
You’ll just have to deal with Ashley Spencer when you get back in town.
Frowning, I sit in front of my computer and continue preparing for my trip.
ASHLEY
I try to put my conversation with Drake out of my mind as I log in to my laptop to begin working. I look up information on tile installation and take copious notes as I watch several tutorials. By the time I’m done, I feel like I could do the installation myself.
Drake hasn’t emerged from his office all morning and I feel like an idiot for throwing my date with Jonathan in his face. I don’t know what he thinks of me now, but it can’t be good.
I need to talk to Emily.
I text my friend and ask her to meet me for lunch, then grab my purse and walk to the elevator.
“So now he probably thinks I’m some kind of slut,” I say to Emily as I pick at my salad. I’d already filled her in on seeing Drake at the dance club the night before, and then my comment about Jonathan when I’d met with Drake in his office.
“You’ve only had, like, two boyfriends, right?”
I nod glumly.
She laughs. “Yeah, I wouldn’t exactly say you get around, Ash.”
I give her a half-smile. “I know. But I don’t think he’ll believe me if I tell him that.”
She sighs. “Who cares what he thinks?”
My eyes widen in disbelief. “I do. Obviously.”
“Why? Why do you care? He’s your boss, not your father.”
Do I want to admit to her that I’m in love with him? No. She would probably try to convince me to quit this job before I drive myself crazy—and I couldn’t really argue with her, although I have no intention of quitting. Drake will have to fire me first. Maybe he’s going to. When he gets back from his trip. The thought horrifies me. What will I do if he banishes me from his life? That would be the worst kind of torture. “I care, Em.”
She shakes her head, like she doesn’t understand me. “Well, there’s not much you can do about it now. All you can do is be a great assistant. You just have to leave your personal life out of it.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Her advice makes sense, although I know it’s not that easy. Not with the way I feel about Drake.
Emily and I have talked enough about that aspect of my relationship with my boss and I decide to move on to other news and tell her about working from his house the next day.
“Really? He wants you to spend the day at his house? All by yourself?” Her eyebrows draw together in question. “Did he ask you to do this before or after you’d implied you’d slept with Jonathan?”
“Before, why?”
“Nothing.” She spears a fat slice of cucumber and pops it into her mouth.
“Wait. Are you saying you think he wouldn’t have asked me to do it if I’d implied I’d slept with Jonathan before he asked me?”
She shrugs. “You are his assistant. Who else would he ask?”
“The brunette from the club,” I murmur.
Emily laughs. “Nah. She probably thinks something like that’s beneath her.”
Maybe that’s my problem. I’m not high class enough for Drake. The idea fills me with despair. I don’t know how to be anyone but myself. If he doesn’t think I’m good enough for him, then there’s nothing I can do about it. “Good thing it’s not beneath me,” I say with a frown.
When I get back to the office Drake’s door is open and his office is dark, and I know he’s already left on his trip. Vague disappointment settles over me, although I don’t know what I would have said to him if he’d been there. I finish my day without hearing from him, and before I leave I make sure I have the key to his house with me.
Twenty
ASHLEY
The next morning I find his house with no problem since I’ve been there twice before. I pull into his driveway like I’m expected, and walk to his front door with confidence. I insert the key in the lock, then hesitate. What if he—or Patrice—is inside?
I knock briskly, then ring the bell, but no one comes. Taking a deep breath, I turn the lock, then push the door open. I walk into the foyer and close the front door behind me. As I survey the space in front of me, I marvel that I’m here by request. Especially when I think about how I walked in just over a week before. Laughing out loud at the craziness of it all, I walk into the living room and take in the view from the floor to ceiling windows.
“Drake likes his views,” I mutter.
First, I go into the kitchen and inspect the tiles that are going to be worked on today. I run my foot across the places where different tiles meet and see what Drake means. Most are fine, but some are uneven.
Next, I decide to acquaint myself with Drake’s home. He didn’t say I couldn’t, and I’m too curious to resist the temptation. Besides the expansive living room and well-appointed kitchen, there is a formal dining room, three bathrooms, two guest bedrooms, an office, and the master bedroom.
“Very nice,” I say as I stand in the middle of Drake’s bathroom. “Even nicer than the one at the cabin.”
The doorbell rings, startling me, until I remember that the tile layers are supposed to be there this morning. I hurry to the front door and let them in. We discuss what they need to do, and I let them get to work, then I carry my laptop into Drake’s office and set up to work. I find it hard to concentrate when I consider that he sits in this very seat all the
time. I wish he is here now and that he would pull me onto his lap and kiss my neck and my mouth and hold me against him.
My email chimes and I see an email from Drake. It’s as if he knew I was thinking about him and my face reddens at the thought.
Ashley - just checking to see if you made it to my house okay, and if the tile layers are there. Email me if you have any questions or concerns.
Drake
I immediately reply.
Yes, I made it here fine. The tile layers got here a little while ago and they’re working now. Good luck with your trip.
Ashley
As the day progresses, I check on the tile layers occasionally and it seems they are doing a good job—they even have me check the levelness of the tiles they are re-laying. I send Drake a brief email letting him know that they are working hard and seem to be fixing the problem, but he doesn’t reply.
The workers take all day to do the job, mostly because it takes some time to remove the old tiles and the dried thin set before they can relay the tile, but by late afternoon they have cleaned up and left.
I take one last look around Drake’s house before I log off of my computer and stuff it in my laptop bag. As I put it over my shoulder, I hear the lock on the front door turn. He’s home. My eyes widen with a mix of excitement and nervousness. The last time I saw him was in his office the day before when he stated that I must get around.
I know he knows I’m still here—my car is parked in his driveway. What will he say when he sees me? Will he pretend like our conversation never happened? I almost hope he does, as I don’t want to consider what he must think of me.
“Ashley?” he calls out.
My heart pounds as I walk out of his office and into the living room. “I’m right here. I was just getting ready to leave.”
His gaze goes to the laptop bag on my shoulder, then to my face. “I got your email that they finished in the kitchen.”
Drake and Ashley: The Complete Story Page 20
