Beware of the Boss

by Leah Ashton

  It was just Lanie and this perfect, gorgeous slice of the South China Sea.

  She let her mind wander to anything and everything.

  Some of it was silly. She found herself wishing that Bob’s little café would miraculously appear on the beach, just so when he asked ‘Did you swim today?’ she could declare Yes!

  But at other times her thoughts turned more serious corners.

  Within the reassuring, regular rhythm of her breathing she let herself consider stuff that was far from controlled. Stuff she hadn’t let herself consider in weeks. Mainly, What was she going to do?

  Because—nice and unexpected as this trip to Vietnam was—a career as a personal assistant was not her dream.

  She’d spent her life for as long as she could remember striving for her swimming goals. She’d put everything into it and shaped her world around it. She’d been driven and dedicated and obsessed, quite frankly. She’d had to be to get up at four-thirty each morning and head for the pool. To stare at that line on the bottom of the pool for lap after lap. To maintain the strict training regime and the diet and the lifestyle.

  She’d known she wasn’t as naturally talented as other swimmers, but she’d had the raw elements—the height, the shoulders, the legs—to propel her bloody fast through the water. But without quite the same intrinsic talent as her competitors she’d had to work harder. She’d rarely let her hair down. Rarely taken a day off.

  Her life had revolved around swimming and her goal.

  And now she needed something else to fill it.

  Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe. Stroke, stroke, stroke...

  She looked up just prior to taking her next breath—and just about sank to the bottom of the ocean.

  Ahead of her—within a handful of metres, basically in the middle of the South China Sea—was Grayson Manning.

  Her lips must have dropped open because salty water filled her mouth, making her cough and splutter.

  ‘Hey!’ Gray said, swimming closer. ‘Are you all right?’

  He reached out towards her but Lanie shooed him away, treading water. ‘Of course I’m fine,’ she said.

  She’d stopped her swim so abruptly that her hair half covered her eyes. Automatically she dipped beneath the water and then ran her hands through her hair as she resurfaced, so her hair was slicked back from her face.

  The action had moved her closer to Gray—really close, actually. Close enough that she could see the water droplets on his eyelashes.

  She’d meant to say something—something inane to fill the slightly odd silence. But as she looked at him—treading water before her, with the remnants of the sun, making him squint in an unfairly attractive manner—she found herself swallowing her words instead.

  And saying nothing at all.

  * * *

  Gray hadn’t really thought too much about what he’d do once he swam out to Lanie. Just that it seemed the logical thing to do.

  Lanie was swimming, he was surprised and curious about that fact, plus it was hot and he wanted to swim—so he’d swum out to her.

  But now he was here he wasn’t sure what to do next.

  Right now his body seemed quite content just to stay here, simply looking at her.

  When she’d done that thing—that neat little dive and elegant reappearance with her hair slicked away from her face in shades of dark blond and brown—it had been as if he was seeing his assistant for the first time.

  There’d been moments, of course, when he’d noted Lanie’s attractiveness. Her eyes he’d noticed immediately—right back at her interview. And then the first day she’d worn her hair tied back in a ponytail, rather than spilling forward and covering her face. He thought she’d changed her hair again the other week too—her hair framed her face rather than shrouding it. And she did have a nice face—a strong jaw, defined cheekbones and a long, fine nose.

  But that was the thing—he’d noted these things and had thought them nice. That was it, no further consideration. But right now she looked a heck of a lot better than nice.

  Her deep brown eyes seemed huge, set off perfectly by her lovely, lightly tanned skin and the hint of freckles across her nose. Without her hair as a distraction her face was revealed for what it was—striking, defined and different. She wasn’t model-beautiful, but she was...distinct. Much more than pretty. Much, much more.

  ‘I’m sorry I don’t remember seeing you at the beach,’ he said.

  He hadn’t planned to say that, and Lanie blinked at him for a moment.

  ‘You swam out here to tell me that?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. Then, realising that wasn’t true at all, added, ‘No. Of course not.’

  Lanie tilted her head, studying him as if he was a very, very strange sea creature.

  He didn’t even bother to explain.

  ‘I didn’t know you swam,’ he said instead.

  Her eyes widened dramatically. ‘You didn’t know I swim?’

  He would have shrugged if it had been easier to do while treading water. ‘How would I? We’ve already covered the fact that I’ve been oblivious to your presence at North Cottesloe beach for weeks, so I wouldn’t expect me not knowing your extracurricular activities to be a surprise.’

  Lanie’s lips quirked up in a bemused-looking smile. ‘Okay.’

  They really were very close to each other. Lanie wore what he was pretty sure was a simple one-piece swimsuit, its practical looking shoulder straps visible above the waves.

  ‘So you swim,’ he said. ‘What else do you do?’

  ‘Is this Get to Know your Employees Day or something?’

  Gray laughed. ‘Not officially. Let’s just say I meant it before. I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you at the beach. It’s not personal. I’ve been particularly...distracted these past few months.’

  That last bit he hadn’t meant to say at all.

  But Lanie nodded. ‘You spoke to me once, too. Before I started working for you. You weren’t happy when I took too long to throw Luther’s ball.’ Her expression was unreadable as she waited for his response.

  Gray grimaced. He didn’t remember the incident specifically, but it sounded about right. ‘I’m sorry about that, too.’

  She nodded again, this time with a subtle smile. ‘Thank you.’ A pause. ‘You were very grumpy that day.’

  ‘I’ve been told I can be,’ he said.

  Lanie’s smile broadened. ‘Your sources are onto something.’

  He couldn’t help but grin back.

  But then that slightly tense silence descended again. Water lapped against them both, making them bob up and down amongst waves that would not fully form until much closer to shore.

  Gray caught Lanie’s gaze, meaning to repeat his earlier question: What else do you do?

  But she was still smiling, her eyes sparkling. She looked like—Gray didn’t know what mermaids were supposed to look like, or water nymphs, or whatever, but he’d guess they looked like Lanie. Glistening with tiny droplets of water, she looked entirely natural in the ocean.

  Much, much more than pretty.

  His attention now was far from abstract. More so than even five minutes earlier.

  He was looking at her not as his assistant but as a woman. Out here, both of them without the accoutrements of their roles—no suits, or laptops, or smart phones—it was impossible to think of her and of himself as anything but a man and a woman. It was all they could be out here.

  Just a man and a woman. Alone.

  Lanie’s smile had fallen away and the sparkle in her eyes had shifted to something far more intense. Far more compelling.

  One of them—her or him?—had moved a little closer.

  He could see flecks of emerald in her eyes.

  Something else
he’d never noticed before.

  As he watched she licked her lips, a bead of salt water disappearing with that little movement of her tongue.

  Then, in a sudden splash of water, Lanie was not so close any more.

  ‘Race you?’ she said. Her voice was high-pitched.

  ‘What?’ He was trying to gather his thoughts, far from certain he had any idea what he’d just been thinking.

  ‘Back to the beach.’ Her voice was steadier now. She gestured parallel to the shore with one arm. ‘Swim straight this way till we’re in line with the lifeguard’s chair, then first one out of the water wins.’

  ‘And the winner gets...?’ he prompted.

  ‘I’ll decide what I want later,’ she said with a cocky grin.

  Gray made a show of sizing her up. ‘You sound extremely sure of yourself.’

  Remarkably so. Sure, she could clearly swim, but he was taller and stronger.

  ‘I am,’ she said.

  He considered offering her a head start but from the steely look in her gaze decided that would be a very bad idea. He guessed Lanie was the type of person who wasn’t interested in winning any way but fair and square.

  He could understand that.

  ‘And if I win, I want—’ he began.

  ‘Doesn’t matter!’ Lanie said. ‘You ready? Let’s go!’

  And just like that they were off.

  * * *

  He did better than she’d expected. Lanie had to give him that.

  For the first half of the hundred-metre-odd swim he was her shadow.

  But gradually—completely as she’d expected—she pulled away.

  In fact by the time he emerged from the water in all his bare-chested glory she was already on her feet, hands on hips, waiting for him.

  The sun was rapidly setting behind her and long shadows were thrown by the backdrop of towering palms. Gray walked in and out of these shadows as he moved towards her, water sluicing down his long, lean body.

  Unlike that day in his office, this time Lanie properly looked. She looked at the heavily muscled width of his shoulders. At the defined—but not overly so—shape of his pectorals. The lightest sprinkling of dark chest hair. The ridges of his belly. The way his shorts clung very low on his hips.

  He was gorgeous. She already knew that. She always had.

  Her gaze travelled upwards again to meet his own.

  He was looking at her as he had when they’d been treading water in the ocean. How to describe it? Maybe as the opposite of the way he usually looked at her—or rather the way he usually didn’t look at her.

  This look wasn’t dismissive, or uninterested, or brief.

  It was intense. Interested.

  In what?

  The same question had triggered their impromptu race. The race that had been supposed to clear her thoughts, to give her time to realise that she’d imagined whatever it was she’d seen in his gaze.

  Standing here staring at him like this was not conducive to that goal.

  She gave herself a mental shake before taking two steps towards Gray and holding out her right hand, as if they were meeting for the very first time.

  ‘Elaine Smith,’ she said, then added proudly, ‘Retired Member of the Australian Swimming Team.’

  * * *

  ‘This is not what I expected,’ Lanie said.

  Gray paused in the narrow laneway. ‘You said you wanted me to take you to my favourite place in Hoi An.’

  Her prize for winning their race. Although he had pointed out that he felt he’d agreed to the race under false pretences.

  She’d countered by mentioning that, had he bothered to read her CV when she applied for her job, he would have known exactly who he was swimming against.

  Which was a good point.

  Lanie smiled up at him. She wore a long, summery dress with thin straps that revealed sunkissed shoulders. ‘I was imagining a temple. Or a view from a mountain. Or maybe a fancy pants restaurant.’

  ‘So you’re not the only one surprising people today?’

  ‘I guess not.’

  They were at a restaurant—although the word could only be used loosely.

  At the end of a long lane—which itself stretched down from the main street of Hoi An town, about ten minutes’ drive from the resort—was a collection of mismatched plastic chairs and metal tables. The lighting was provided by naked bulbs strung across the back of a pale yellow two-storey building with dark green shutters and a red-tiled roof that was about five hundred years old.

  The contrast between the ancient and the new was stark, and should have been ugly. But somehow this place—completely packed with locals—wasn’t ugly at all.

  It was vibrant and authentic.

  And, besides, the food was amazing.

  Gray led Lanie to a spare table—no one greeted customers at a place like this—and then left her for a minute to pay. You also didn’t get to order here, either.

  As he walked back with a couple of cans of soft drink sold from a bucket full of ice, he watched Lanie, observing this place.

  She looked relaxed, leaning back comfortably in her chair. Her gaze was flitting everywhere, as if she was trying to see and absorb everything: the details of the ancient houses that surrounded them, the raucous laughter from a table of Vietnamese women all dressed in modern Western clothes, the older woman who was yelling directions at the restaurant’s staff as they ferried oversized tin or plastic plates to table after table.

  He’d decided to come here without much thought, and really it wasn’t the most logical choice. He’d meant for them both to eat dinner at the resort tonight, alone in their respective rooms, as he’d had plans to work late into the evening.

  If he’d properly considered taking her out to dinner it wouldn’t have been to this place. He would have taken her down to the banks of the Thu Bon river, where the streets on either side where lined with cafés and restaurants, all serving incredible food at tables located perfectly for hours spent watching the world go by.

  Lanie smiled as he approached. ‘This place is awesome,’ she said. ‘Like nothing at home.’

  And instantly Gray was reassured. He’d been right to bring her here. She got it.

  ‘Tourists don’t come to this place,’ he said. ‘Quan, our driver, brought me here one night last year. It isn’t the sort of place that appears in guidebooks, or in a glossy pamphlet at a hotel reception.’

  ‘That’s probably a good thing,’ Lanie said as she poured her iced tea into a glass. ‘If this morphed into a tourist trap it wouldn’t be the same.’ She took a sip of her drink and met his gaze over the rim of the glass. ‘This way I feel like I’m in on a secret.’

  Their food arrived—banh xeo: crispy deep-fried pancakes with a pork and mushroom filling baked into the batter. Gray showed Lanie how to add lettuce and roll the pancake before dipping it in a lime and chilli sauce.

  He waited for her verdict as she took her first bite.

  ‘Delicious!’ she declared, and Gray felt as stupidly pleased as if he’d cooked the meal himself.

  ‘I looked you up on the internet,’ Gray said, after polishing off his first pancake. ‘Elaine Smith, member of the Australian swimming team.’

  Lanie met his gaze. ‘And what did you learn?’

  ‘That you were aiming for this year’s championships.’

  She nodded. ‘That’s correct.’

  ‘And your sister is Sienna Smith.’

  ‘So’s that.’

  Now she did break eye contact, her attention suddenly focussed on a stray beansprout she was twirling between her fingers.

  ‘It must have been hard, watching her win after you missed out on the team.’

  Lanie looked up and raised an eyebrow. ‘You don’t b
eat around, do you?’

  He didn’t bother to answer that question.

  ‘That’s not very sensitive of you, you know,’ Lanie pointed out. ‘Most people would assume that’s a delicate subject for me.’

  ‘Is it?’

  Lanie shook her head, but said, ‘Yes.’ Then blinked, as if surprised by what she’d said.

  But she didn’t correct herself.

  ‘Of course,’ she continued, ‘I’m absolutely thrilled for Sienna. It’s amazing to see someone you love achieve their dream.’

  ‘That sounds scripted.’

  Lanie’s eyes narrowed. ‘I meant every word. What sort of person would I be if I didn’t?’

  ‘I didn’t say you didn’t. I’m just not sure why you mentioned it. We were talking about you, not your sister. I don’t really care about what she did or didn’t win.’

  He reached for his can of drink, enjoying the play of emotions and reactions across Lanie’s face. Shock, affront—and then careful consideration.

  How had he not noticed how transparently expressive she was?

  Well, the same way he’d not noticed that he’d hired a world class athlete. It was apparent such an oversight was not difficult for him.

  ‘So you’re saying it wouldn’t bother you if I was insanely jealous, overwhelmingly frustrated and more than a little bitter that my baby sister—who only began swimming to copy me—has just gone ahead and done something I’ve spent my whole life dreaming about?’

  ‘No,’ he said.

  Lanie gave a little huff of protest. ‘Right. I—’

  ‘I’d call you honest.’

  Her mouth snapped shut.

  She reached for her own glass and downed the remainder of the sparkling liquid in a single gulp. ‘For the record,’ she said eventually, ‘I don’t feel that way.’ A long, telling, pause. ‘Most of the time.’

  Gray nodded. He believed her. ‘Do you want to go for a walk?’ he asked.

  ‘Definitely,’ Lanie said, already on her feet, as if keen to escape from the conversation as quickly as possible.

  Minutes later they were heading down Le Loi Street, which stretched all the way down to the river. Red paper lanterns were strung across the street, and with motorbikes parked along the footpath the narrow street itself was full with foot traffic—only the occasional swift-moving bicycle or a motorbike heralding its arrival with a toot of its horn wove amongst the crowd.