Something Just Like This

by Jennifer Probst

  “Exactly. The best assistant you’ve ever had. You’re blurring the lines because you realized another man may take me away, and you’re worried about our working relationship. I should have brought a date to these functions long ago. Then you would’ve been able to move past the block and have more time to process.”

  He rubbed his head. “I don’t think you’re giving either of us enough credit. I know it’s a risk. But would you be willing to try and get to know one another outside the workplace? See if this connection has legs?”

  That tiny flicker of humor he spotted made him sure he’d be good for her. He loved every conversation he engaged in with her, challenged to keep his brain sharp enough to be a worthy partner. “May I ask if you and Paul are serious?”

  He already knew the answer, but he wanted to see how she’d react.

  “No, we’re better as friends.”

  “That’s what I thought. Alyssa, it’s been a long time since I’ve been interested in a woman. I don’t take this lightly—my emotions or my career.”

  Her voice softened. “I know. But you can’t expect me to just announce I’d like to date you, and suddenly we’re in the office together, and I’m confused about how to act. It’d be disastrous for both of us.”

  “I agree. I said I liked you. Not that I want to ravish you on my desk every day at three p.m.”

  She pursed her lips in disapproval. “Desk sex would be a nightmare. It’d take hours to get you reorganized.”

  His laugh came out too loud, clearly startling her, but then she smiled, acknowledging his reaction. “See? That’s why I can’t get you off my mind. I love your brain.”

  She blinked, and a flash of pleasure lit her pretty brown eyes. He bet she wasn’t used to compliments from men. She deserved to be told how special she was every damn day. He hoped he got the chance.

  “Then what are you proposing?” she asked.

  “Just dinner. Alone. An opportunity to talk outside the office and chill. How does that sound?”

  “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’d still rather you sleep on it and decide later. Your primitive male self doesn’t need to be threatened by me replacing you with someone else right now. Let’s just say there’s no other man in my life, and I’m sure it will continue that way.”

  He hated the tinge of sadness in her voice, the touch of loneliness she desperately tried to hide. He recognized it because he battled it every day and every night and still hadn’t been able to make peace with his solitary existence the way he’d hoped. “If that will make you feel better, why don’t we both think about it. We’ll set dinner for Thursday night, and if either of us changes our mind, we’ll never mention this again. Deal?”

  He had to offer her an escape clause. It was the right thing, even though the idea of her running away broke something inside him. Slowly, she nodded. “Deal. Except you have the school board hearing on Thursday.”

  “Friday.”

  “You’re meeting with the governor and then attending the senator’s fundraiser.”

  “Saturday. And if you come up with something else I’m supposed to be doing, cancel it.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “We could do it late, around nine p.m. That’s all you can manage. I double-booked you.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  Negotiating with his schedule for a dinner date was ridiculous, but there was no other woman who could make it seem so damn sexy. Her clean scent hit his nostrils and made him dizzy.

  “I should look at those spreadsheets,” she said a bit shyly, shifting in her seat.

  He realized he’d pushed enough and needed to back off and let her breathe. “Of course.”

  He brought up the necessary Excel files, turning the laptop around so they could both see the screen. “I spoke with the senator tonight, and he mentioned there may be too many funds earmarked for the Back to Home program.”

  She dragged her chair a few inches closer so she could view the laptop. He studied her as she morphed into work-mode, her nose pinched beneath her glasses as her gaze flickered across the screen, taking in the endless columns of figures. “That program is your baby,” she said shortly. “We’re at the minimum budget to run it properly.”

  “I agree. But I’m still getting pushback, and we’re low on funding for the libraries at this point.”

  “But stats on the homeless this quarter were way down. We need all those funds to keep the program successful.”

  “Tell that to the librarians who need to keep up with technology. They need a computer system upgrade, and it’s going to cost. It’ll be on Harry’s desk to work his magic, but I wanted your opinion first.”

  Budgets were thorny, and it’d only get worse when he got bumped to governor. Running a state was more complicated than running a city, but he felt up to the task and had decent skills in the art of compromise. Too bad other politicians didn’t. God knew it would make the country a better place if they did. “I’ll have to cut a layer of cost somehow, but I don’t want to backtrack at this point.”

  Her glossy, naked nail tapped against her lip, and then she reached for his keyboard, clicking madly through the tabs and programs as if seeing something he didn’t. “You can’t cut shelter security,” she murmured, “or the foundation will crumble. But we earmarked for a ton of admin. If we don’t hire those two new positions and switch them to volunteers, we may be able to handle the squeeze.”

  “Mary said those positions were needed.”

  “They are, but if we switch them to give college credit as an internship instead of pay, it could still work.”

  He leaned back, considering. Once again, she was able to move boxes around and see a different picture. It was a talent he relied on every day in order to do the best job possible. There was no way he could lose her.

  Damnit.

  He studied the nape of her neck, the vulnerable, smooth flesh practically begging for his lips. He wondered what would happen if he leaned forward and pressed his mouth there or ran his tongue slowly down the length of her spine, relishing every shudder and shiver. But if he made a move too soon, before she was ready, he might lose her completely. “An internship may not give Mary what she needs.”

  “It’s a competitive market. I’m sure we can vet the correct volunteers who want to do a kick-ass job and impress the mayoral office.”

  She was right. The odds were in their favor. “That’s a brilliant idea, Alyssa. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sure Harry would’ve come up with the same solution.”

  Jonathan doubted it, but he was used to her aversion to gushing compliments on the job.

  A short silence settled between them, filled with all the things spoken and unspoken over the past hour. He was about to tell her how much he admired her, that she was the type of woman deserving of a man who was worthy. That he was honored she’d chosen to accompany him for dinner. But she quickly stood up and made her announcement. “I should be going.”

  He scrambled back, feeling overly awkward and not at all like a man who ran one of the most powerful cities in the US. “Yes, of course. Thanks again for helping me out. Tim will get you home safe.”

  She nodded, buttoned up her coat, and headed for the door.

  “Alyssa?”

  Her hand stilled on the knob. Sensual tension cranked between them. “Yes?”

  “Make sure you come in late tomorrow morning. Ten a.m., no earlier. I kept you out too late tonight for work. Okay?”

  He heard her draw in a deep breath. “Okay.”

  Then she was gone.

  Chapter Five

  Dinner with the mayor.

  Her boss.

  Her secret crush.

  This was insanity.

  The thoughts whirled in her head with every step through the hallway, snapping automatically into work-mode. She’d come in at 9:30 a.m. the next morning, expecting him to explain he’d had too much to drink and had decided it was best for both of them to keep their relationsh
ip platonic.

  Instead, he’d scolded her for the half-hour, snapped into mayoral-mode, and later on, she’d found their dinner date on his calendar marked in bold.

  Guess he was still serious. And today was D-day. She’d spent a ridiculous amount of time wondering what she should wear before deciding on her work clothes since they’d probably leave straight from the office. Not that she had any sexy date clothes, anyway. They were all black, conservative, classic. And boring.

  Oh, well. She liked them, and one date didn’t warrant her tossing out her stuff in order to match his type. Alyssa knew well the women Jonathan tended to date. His late wife fit the standard: dynamic, passionate, and beautiful. The media loved to attach him to numerous women and speculate on romantic trysts—he was pretty much the darling of reporters and gossip rags. Even more so because he’d been so careful not to get involved with anyone, though actresses, models, and lawyers desperately tried. He’d actually been linked to a famous tennis star who killed it at Wimbledon.

  But they all fizzled out into friendships then faded to nothing.

  Yet, here she was, ready to go on a date he’d asked for. Her belly swam with fluttering butterflies, especially when she remembered the way he’d uttered those amazing words, his ocean-blue eyes locked on hers.

  I like you, Alyssa. I like you a lot.

  Shakespeare could do no better.

  The hours flew by, crammed with endless meetings, mini-disasters, and the frenzy that came with dealing with the public. Slowly, people left to run home to families or dates or commitments, and she found herself alone at her desk, working on some email responses. It was almost nine p.m. when Jonathan finally strode out, saying goodbye to the small team of suits that advised him in various facets.

  Her palms sweated as he leaned over. The ocean scent of his cologne always hit her hard, a precursor to the powerful male energy that swarmed around her. His thick, dark hair looked mussed, and lines of weariness bracketed his eyes. She noticed his red tie a bit askew, and the top button of his crisp, white shirt loosened. Yep, his meeting with the educators had not gone well. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said in a low voice. His gaze flicked over her work clothes. “Do you need to go home and change first?”

  She fought the trickle of doubt at her appearance, deciding he’d better learn early on that she didn’t intend to dazzle with her wardrobe or makeup skills. Her black, raw silk jacket, pants, and tank were standard fare. “No. But are you sure you want to go? You look tired. We can cancel.”

  His jaw firmed, but his eyes gentled as he smiled. “It was the only thing I was looking forward to all day,” he said simply. “Thank you for waiting. Tim’s out front.”

  Alyssa hesitated. Her inner voice screamed that this was her chance to back out of the whole thing, but her feet automatically moved as she locked up her desk and followed him out. His hand guided her from the small of her back, and the intimate gesture made goosebumps prickle over her skin. They’d walked down the hallways hundreds of times before, but this time, she felt like a woman.

  Not his assistant.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, settling into the comfortable back seat.

  “Italian good? I’m craving some comfort food.”

  “Sure. I just think it would be best if the restaurant wasn’t…” She trailed off, not yet comfortable expressing how she felt about the evening.

  “Close?” She nodded slowly. “I understand, Alyssa. I figured Felice has good food, but it’s not too far out of the way, and no one should bother us there.”

  “Thanks.” Silence settled around them, but she felt no pressure to make casual conversation. She looked out the window and watched the city whiz by, the roads emptier at the later hour. Trying to get anywhere during rush hour in Manhattan was impossible, and they’d both rather walk if possible, rather than sit in a car for an hour not moving. “I’m sorry Andrew gave you a hard time with the push to stifle vaping.”

  He stared at her in surprise. “How did you know? I hoped our inability to agree was kept quiet for now until I get more support on the proposal. Did you see the new health report? Too many kids still think it’s not like smoking a cigarette.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Jonathan, he’s pissed off you’re going for governor. He’ll do his best to stifle you on every idea you have until you win the election. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize.”

  He tilted his head as if analyzing her words. “I knew he was temperamental, but I figured we’d gotten past that hump. He backed me on the limitations for soda in the vending machines.”

  “Only because Henderson wanted it. Not you.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he whispered under his breath. “I think you’re right.”

  “You should mention it during the Healthy New York run next week. Get it more on your radar.”

  “I will. I’m going to make sure we have better awareness programs in the schools, too.” He paused, and she felt his gaze boring into her. “How was your day?”

  “Productive.” She rattled off everything she’d accomplished like a well-oiled machine. “Tomorrow, I think I want to change your agenda for the—”

  “Alyssa.”

  Her name was a command and a question, spoken in that low, silky voice that caressed her nerve endings. She fought a shiver. “Yes?”

  “I didn’t mean work. I meant how you were feeling. I’d like to say we’re officially off the clock and out of the office. What did you have for lunch? Did you sleep well? Anything interesting happen?”

  A rare smile tugged at her lips. His inquiries were sweet. When was the last time anyone had asked her any boring questions about her day? Certainly, never her parents. She had no other family. And her friends were all co-workers, where she’d occasionally meet for a drink at the bar and listen to them bitch about work and target the single men. She ended up going home early while they stayed to party and hook up. She never really felt like she fit in with any group, so she’d decided she didn’t need one at all. She refused to apologize for being a misfit. It suited her.

  “Well, I read the new Malcolm Gladwell book for an hour, then used this lotion that’s supposed to encourage a deeper REM sleep, which will end up giving me more energy for less sleep if it works out. Smells a bit funky, and it’s purple, but I’ll give it a thirty-day trial run.” She glanced at him to check his boredom level, but he was looking at her with an eagerness she didn’t think he could fake. Might as well finish. “I had a Caesar salad at my desk with a green smoothie, so I’d say my free radicals are burning up nicely, and I did a quick walk over in the park to get to my ten thousand steps.” Health was important to her. The body was a machine, and she made sure to take care of it so it provided her with the fuel needed to function and flourish. “That’s about it.”

  Ugh, she’d rambled again, but honestly, this was her life. He might as well realize she wasn’t suddenly going to become more exciting just because she was dating him. She squared her shoulders, already defensive, but he nodded with interest. “Does the cream have lavender in it? I heard that’s very soothing.”

  “Yes. Lavender, almond oil, cocoa butter, and oatmeal.”

  “Let me know if it works. I’ve tried melatonin and some nerve tonic, and nothing’s done it for me.”

  “You have insomnia?”

  His lips quirked. “I have public figure persona. It means I never sleep an entire night without waking up to stare at the ceiling and go over the million ways I can fail.”

  She tilted her head. “What about the million ways you make a difference?”

  “I’m only on number three, so I have more work in that category.”

  A sigh escaped. “You’re always too hard on yourself.”

  “That’s my job, too. Making sure no one else has to police me,” he said.

  “Another reason I wanted to work with you. It’s more than a job being your assistant. It’s…fulfilling.”

  He stared at her, his gaze delving deep, an intent light in
those ocean depths. “That’s probably the highest compliment you’ve given me. But I wonder if you know how much you’ve done, not only for the office but also for me. I don’t even think of you as an assistant. You’re more like my partner.”

  She jerked slightly, his words slamming through her like a sucker punch. Partner? The intimate word stretched and settled between them, sparking the silence, but before she could analyze how she felt, the car pulled up to the curb.

  The restaurant was low-key and intimate, and they were swept in and seated toward the back. One bodyguard stood discreetly away at a distance, but close enough to deal with any trouble. The owner came out to fuss, and after ordering some wine, they both agreed to order a few plates and share so they could taste a variety.

  It dawned on her how much he really did know about her. Her likes and dislikes. Her hatred of iced tea and coffee and how she preferred both in heated form. Her secret love of dark chocolate and how she ate exactly one Dove bar per day, kept locked in the right-hand drawer of her desk. And he knew they both adored anything Italian, choosing to order in penne ala vodka and chicken parm on some awful, draining days, not caring about carbs or diet or that there wasn’t a salad in sight.

  She shook off her thoughts. Whatever they were doing here together—whether this was a real date or they were just figuring out if they were brave enough to try—it was a precious opportunity to know him more after the doors had closed. She wasn’t about to waste it, so she dove in hard, not afraid to swim in the deep waters.

  “When was your last relationship?” she asked. She might know the basics from an outsider’s perspective, but she wanted the details and truth only he could give her.

  He buttered a piece of bread, completely poised. “You mean sexually? Or romantically?”

  His blunt question pleased her. She refused to blush, liking the way he wasn’t afraid to tell the truth. “Both.”