Broken Boundaries

by TC Matson

  “What is so special about Easton Langley that they stoop to such measures? Have you screwed them all?” Suddenly, she realizes what she just asked and she sucks in a gasp, slapping her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I’m sorry, sir.” It’s garbled by her hand.

  I keep my view on her. For some strange reason her opinion of me matters. “You’re fiery this morning. Must be the latte,” I say unashamed. “But to answer your question. No. I haven’t and I don’t know the answer. Truthfully, it’s baffling and unappealing.”

  “It’s none of my business. I’m sorry,” she repeats.

  “You must have a reason for asking,” I state.

  She shifts. “When I first started, you mentioned them…” she trails off. “There are a lot of them weekly.”

  I nod.

  “Anyway, you asked, I told. I’m sorry.”

  “You do a lot of apologizing,” I tell her. “For the record, I’m not mad about the other night with you and Zach.”

  She stifles a giggle. “He really did put me up to it. Bribed me with a drink. I’m sure it was weird your best friend hitting on your assistant.”

  Oh, if she only knew…

  “You could say that,” I say.

  She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, and I fantasize about what that part of her neck would smell like. Sweet and soft? “Your flight leaves in about three hours. I’ll let you get back to it.”

  She’s hiding something—something innocent, something I’ve seen before—desire. I smile at the thought.

  Her ass sways from side to side, but it’s not purposely over exaggerated. It’s natural. The flow of her hips controlling the curve of her ass.

  Get a grip, Langley.

  Zoey

  The office has been quiet all week. The phones have been dormant…so much, I called from my cell phone to make sure they were working properly.

  Easton left Monday with a flirty goodbye and a sexy as hell gaze. It heated my body and cross-fired my circuits. He’s charming as ever and I’m realizing I think about him a lot. I’m just his assistant and I’m infatuated with him. I can’t imagine what his “flings” think. Being with him would be hard. He’s always gone, always away from his home life, always working long and hard hours. I understand why he stays single. There’s no room for relationships. Balancing it would be straining.

  Britney has a date—an actual date—with Garret tonight. Hell, I can’t remember the last time she’s been on one. It’s normally not her style. Even so, I decided to grab something to eat on my way home and stay in for the weekend. A decompression. A clear my mind of my sexy boss and rid myself of all the inappropriate thoughts. The only thing on my agenda tonight is a hot bubble bath and endless hours of ridiculous movies.

  I hop off the train and make my way to the deli. Stepping in, the aroma is quite a beautiful thing. Fresh baked bread, meats, vegetables, seasonings—it’s heavenly. A young woman, possibly still in high school, smiles at me as she steps up to the counter and takes my order. She’s wearing a smile, but clearly she’s not thrilled to be working on a Friday night.

  After paying, I sink into the bench in the waiting area and pull out my phone to waste time.

  “Can I sit here?” A male voice asks.

  I glance up. Green eyes—not as breathtaking as Easton’s—question me. His hair is shaggy and tousled—not as clean cut as Easton’s. His smile is forced and nervous—not as easy and confident as Easton’s. His lips are thin—not as edible looking as…

  Great. I’m comparing men to my boss? Fantastic.

  “Can I sit here?” he repeats and points to the empty spot beside me.

  “Yes,” I blabber out and scoot over the only inch I can give him. “I’m sorry. I was lost in another universe.”

  He sits and then rubs his hands together between his legs. “I sneak away sometimes too. Randy.” He shoves his hand out in front of me.

  “Zoey.” I give him a quick shake.

  “Come here often?” he asks and then starts to laugh. “Wow. I’m such a loser. Great opener…”

  I titter. “I liked it better than some repetitious line about me being beautiful.” I smile genuinely. “I don’t come here as often as I would love to.”

  He nods in agreement. “The food here is great. Ever tried their patty melt?”

  “I’ve never ventured away from the French Dip,” I admit.

  He throws his thumb over his shoulder to the tables. “Want to grab a table? I’ll give you half of mine. That way you can at least say you’ve tried it.”

  I just look at him. Sweat has beaded just below his hairline, his lips hold worry, and his green eyes bulge. “I’m sorry. That was too…You don’t even know me. Pretend I didn’t ask that,” he rambles quickly, looking everywhere else but at me.

  He’s sweet. A little nerdy and awkward like me, but sweet. “I’d love to.”

  Not like I have anything else planned. Plus, he could be exactly what I need to get the hot boss off my mind.

  He recoils slightly. “Really?”

  “Yes,” I reply with a laugh.

  He springs to his feet and hurries to get us a table. After we are seated and order our drinks, the waitress brings our food.

  I separate my French Dip and hand half of it to Randy. “If I’m getting part of yours, it’s only fair if you try mine too.”

  He switches and then takes a huge, gross bite. “This is really good.” His words are muffled by the food in his mouth as he nods his head.

  Great. No manners.

  “This is too,” I say after I’ve swallowed the food.

  “What brings you to a deli on Friday night? You don’t have a ring, so I’m assuming you’re not married. If you were, you wouldn’t get just one meal. Do you not have anything to do?” Awkwardly Nerdy exits stage left only to reappear as Captain Obvious.

  “I just got off work and didn’t feel like cooking,” I tell him.

  “You work close?” Another mouthful question.

  I nod. “Langley Security.”

  His eyes glimmer. “I applied for their software developer position not too long ago. I’m stuck in telemarketing with a degree in computer science. I’ve applied to every business in the city.”

  “Then expand your search outside the city. That’s how I landed my job,” I tell him.

  “I’ve got an interview next week with Fortune’s Communications and Denver Health.”

  “That’s fantastic. Which one are you hoping to work for the most?”

  “EA. Electronic Arts, but it’s an hour back and forth.”

  My brows knit together. “You didn’t say you had an interview with them.”

  He flashes a sly smile. “I know. But the question was where would I like to work the most. Brings all my nerdy qualities together. I love games, computers, and software. I could utilize everything. They’d promote me because I’m quite impressive.”

  He’s a confident nerdy. Kind of cute.

  “That’s a good attitude to have. Just know it doesn’t always happen fast. I started at the bottom four years ago and now I’m sitting beside the owner of the company as his assistant.”

  The very hot owner…

  He shakes his head. “Won’t take me four years to get where I want to be,” he replies tersely and then shakes his finger. “I read an article once where your boss, Easton Langley, lost his temper and fired the whole department on the spot.”

  I laugh because that sounds absurd. “Don’t always believe what you read. I’ve learned when he gets frustrated he gets quiet. Besides, as long as I’ve been there, I’ve never heard or seen such a thing.”

  “They claim he’s a ladies’ man,” he adds, shoving a fry into his mouth.

  “Rumors are rumors.” I lift a shoulder. “The tabloids have to make money somehow.”

  “They have to have a morsel of truth for them to feed from,” he states.

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Who am I kidding? I know he’
s right.

  We continue to talk about work—the very thing I’m desperate to disappear from—while we finish our sandwiches. Randy has a unique way to him. He seems insecure but conceited. His replies range from shy to super bold, and I have no idea how to take them.

  The waitress brings our drink checks and sets them down in front of us. Randy reaches across the table and snatches mine out of my hand. “I’ll pay for yours.”

  “It’s only a drink. I think I’ve got it.”

  “I want to and I also want to maybe take you out tomorrow. On a real date. Not one I’ve hijacked.”

  A date. Something I haven’t done in months. “Sure?” I think.

  “Are you opposed to a lunch date?” he asks while digging out his wallet. “I have something really important I have to do tomorrow night or else I’d take you to dinner. I’m sorry.”

  “I prefer lunch dates anyway,” I admit.

  Using the waitress’ hot pink pen, he scribbles down his number. Part of me wants to laugh. He says he’s a tech guy, yet we’re not exchanging numbers via phone? He hands me the pen and nods at the napkin. I write down my number anyway.

  “I’m really glad I decided to eat out tonight. If I hadn’t, I might not have run into you. Thank you,” he says as he pushes open the door and walks out…before me.

  I’m not incredibly old-fashioned, but I do believe a man should be a gentleman. Treat a lady as he’d treat his mother. Chivalry is dead and someone needs to bring it back.

  “Me too. Just call me and let me know where we’re going,” I tell him.

  Why does this feel so awkward?

  “Oh. I won’t call. I do enough talking on the phone through the week. I’ll text you in a little bit. It was really nice to meet you. I can’t wait for tomorrow.” He gives a small wave and walks away.

  “Well, then…” I sigh, watching him leave. Maybe he needs to get more comfortable to break out of his odd shell.

  Last night, Randy’s texts reeked of dubiousness. I lost sleep wondering if I had actually made the right decision about meeting up with him for lunch, but I went against my gut feeling anyway. This morning he texted me where to meet him and turns out the “thing” he has to do is some gaming expedition where a bunch of people get together online and do whatever it is he’s explaining.

  I quit listening and am off in another place as he goes on and on and on and on about this cyber adventure voyage, or whatever the hell it is. This is his topic. This is where he’s most comfortable and it’s showing. He lost me at “incredible graphics” and “it’s so dope.”

  No. Nothing about this is “so dope.”

  I smile at him, pretending to give a damn as I discreetly pull out my phone, keeping it hidden by the table. I text Britney.

  Me: Fluffy muffin

  “Is it good?” He nods to my barely eaten buffalo chicken salad.

  I conjure up enthusiasm and let it stretch my lips high. “Delicious.”

  He grins proudly. “I knew you’d like it here. I racked my brain thinking of which one of my favorite restaurants you’d like. I even asked the guys online last night. We narrowed it down to this and my other favorite restaurant, the pizza place down the street from me. My friend Harold, gamer tag HaryRod, flipped the coin and said here.”

  Really? Like that’s pertinent information…

  And right on cue, my phone rings.

  “Gingersnap is missing!” Britney wails into the phone so loudly I have to pull it away from my ear. “She was here and now…Oh shit, Zoey. Beast is out too!”

  “Britney, calm down,” I forge the concern.

  “Calm down? You want me to calm down? Gingersnap is out somewhere roaming the apartment and she doesn’t realize she’s about to be dinner. I need you. Like now. I need help!”

  “What were you doing in my apartment anyway,” I ask, adding to the believability.

  “I wanted Ricky Bobby and Gingersnap to… It doesn’t matter. Please, Zoey. I’m begging you for help before something really bad happens to her,” she cries.

  I peer up to Randy. He’s paused, mid-bite, eyes wide with worry. He’s buying it.

  “I’m sorry. I need to go,” I feign my own worry and point to the phone.

  “Is she okay?”

  I shake my head and quickly gather my things. “Do you want me to chip in?”

  Britney sobs…loudly.

  “No. No. Just go. Text me and let me know if everything is okay later.”

  Fighting back a victorious smile, I frown. “I’m sorry about this,” I lie.

  “I get it. Just go,” he says.

  I rush out the door and onto the sidewalk, charging away from the restaurant.

  “Safe?” Britney whispers.

  “Yeah.”

  “That bad, huh? God. We haven’t had to do that in forever.”

  “Gingersnap? Ricky Bobby? Jesus, Britney. You tested my ability to keep a straight face.”

  She laughs.

  “Yes. That bad. In fact, horrible. He’s a serious as hell gamer and dragged on about some gaming adventure thing he has with his avatar friends tonight,” I say.

  “Does he live in his mom’s basement?” she snickers.

  “I’m attracting the best of the best lately. I’m like a weirdo magnet,” I say as I cross the street.

  “You’ve just not been looking in the right places. In fact, you’ve not been looking at all. Cross off ‘find a boyfriend at the takeout area of your favorite restaurant,’” she chortles.

  “You’re such a shit,” I quip. “I’m about to walk in. Care to have a mid-day drink?”

  “Actually, I spent the night with Garret and I’m still kind of here,” she says, sounding brainless.

  “That seems to be going well,” I sing to her.

  “Very. I’ll call you later.”

  We hang up just as the elevator doors slide open. That’s the beauty of lunch dates. My day isn’t wasted or ruined. I only had to endure forty-five minutes that saved me from who knows how long of a mistake.

  Relaxation is definitely in my cards tonight. And a hot bubble bath…

  “Calgon, take me away,” I quote the old commercial as I deadbolt the door behind me.

  Zoey

  One thing is for sure—Randy doesn’t take hints very well. He’s texted me so many times I had to mute my phone. They started off worried about my “dilemma” but then turned into random talk about his online adventure.

  Amazing writing. Sheer openness. Impressive graphics.

  Whatever the hell that means. I have no idea what game he’s talking about, but he kept sending texts—one after another—describing his adventure. Sunday was just as bad. Even after I sent him a reply after midnight and told him I was going to bed, he didn’t stop sending them.

  I yawn, reaching for my coffee mug when a man in a blue uniform carrying flowers approaches my desk looking quite uncertain.

  “I’m looking for a Zoey who works beside Mr. Langley. The lady at the front desk pointed me this way. I have no last name for the recipient.”

  “That’s me,” I say dreading who these may be from.

  He extends the brightly colored rose and lily assortment with a large smile. “Have a great day.”

  Had an amazing date. Hope these brighten your day. Can’t wait to do it again.

  Text you later.

  Randy

  Laughter burns my throat. An amazing date? What damn game was he thinking he was playing?

  “Dressing up the office?”

  Easton’s question causes me to jump slightly. I roll my eyes. “Not quite.”

  He plucks the card from the plastic holder. I watch a storm harden his gaze before blinking it away. “Seems you have an admirer.”

  I puff a chuckle and roll my eyes again. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “For me? Yes. For him? No. I bailed on this amazing date he claims we had.” I air quote the word amazing. “Embarrassed to say but I ended up with a planned un
expected phone call.”

  Amusement dances in his eyes and he arches a brow. “Emergency phone call? Must’ve been a horrific date.”

  “My best friend’s pretend hamster got loose while making babies with my pretend hamster and the pretend cat was out on the hunt.” I lift a shoulder. “Bad’s putting it nicely.”

  His laugh gets stuck in his throat. “Damn.”

  Desperate to get away from the award-winning shame, I ask, “Did you have a good week?”

  He nods. “Much needed. I need you to set up a meeting with Chris from marketing.”

  “You’re pretty booked during the day for the rest of the week,” I say.

  Pleasure braids his face. “You didn’t even look.”

  I grin proudly. “It’s memorized, sir.”

  Yep. No more embarrassment by not knowing his schedule.

  “Make it a late meeting and order food, please.”

  I move the flowers to the other side of my desk, out of the way, and out of my view.

  He spins back toward me with a smirk. “Did adding please make me less of a dickhead?” he jests.

  I choke on a giggle. “A little, but it did nothing for your laziness.”

  Oh, that was super flirty…

  He winks, which sends my stomach on a tumble, and then disappears behind his office door.

  When Chris shows up, so does the whole marketing department, and they file into Easton’s office.

  “Zoey?” Easton leans out of his door. “You’ll be joining us.”

  Everyone is piled around the table while Easton stands at the end, but I sit quietly in a chair behind them and jot down everything as they discuss it. While away, Easton was propositioned by developers who are building a new home security alarm panel. They want his input and ideas and then afterward, they want him to start implementing it immediately. Although I know Langley Security also handles home security, I’ve only seen him work deeply in commercial.

  Darryl and Chris are the most talkative, the most involved in the conversation, outside of Easton of course. The rest of the team either has their noses on the papers or are intently listening without any input or opinions.