Arrogant Boss

“Eat dinner, flirt a bit.” She shrugged. “Do lots of nasty, dirty things together between the sheets. You know the drill.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I don’t see why not.” Denise raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re long overdue for a bit of romance.”

I couldn’t disagree with her on that. “Yes, but the fallout would be terrible. I’d have to sit through meetings with him at least once a week-that’s unavoidable. And the way this office works, I’m not sure I could hide it from the others. They’re like bloodhounds when it comes to gossip. Last week one of them found out a software engineer was pregnant just from a two-second glance at her browser history.”

Denise poured another cup of broth into the risotto she was making us for dinner. “It sounds to me like you’re creating problems.”

“Really?”

“When was the last time you were properly out on a date?”

I raised a finger in warning. “No, don’t make me say it.”

“Emily.””Two years, as you very well know. But I just never meet anyone! Besides, I can’t exactly take a man home to the house I share with my baby brother. It’s not like I have time, either-I’ve been far too busy with my career.”

Denise pointed at me in accusation with a wooden spatula. “I counted three separate excuses in that response.”

“Congratulations,” I deadpanned. “You can count.”

“Deflect all you want, but we both know that this is the first time in a long time that you’ve expressed an interest in anyone.”

“True, but it’s not just anyone. I wish you could see him. You’d see why. Anyone with eyes would express an interest in Julian. It’s effortless.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“No? Have you developed a sudden aversion to chiseled jaws? ”

“I’ve actually developed a strong preference for one man’s jaw in particular. There is no one else for me now.”

I grinned. Every time I met Denise she had a new crush or fling. “I have a fourth excuse. Your incredibly active dating life means I can just live vicariously through you.”

She tutted and shook her head so vigorously that her reddish curls bounced. “That’s the easy way out. You’re going to have to take a chance sometime, Emily.”

“But what if I lose my job?”Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“What if you gain love? Or at least wild, crazy sex you’ll remember forever?”

I sighed. “Tell me about your new man.”

She smiled so widely I could practically see her molars and launched into a description of the new cook over at El Vino, an Italian Michelin-star restaurant in the nearby town. They’d already met up twice and he was going to take her to meet a few of his friends next week.

“Which means,” Denise said pointedly to me, “that you’re next.”

“Me?”

“To meet him. If all goes well.”

“Wait, hold up. When was the last time you let me meet one of your flings?”

She blushed. “I don’t know… I just don’t feel like this is a fling.”

“Really?””Really.”

“Well then, I’d love to meet him! And who knows, perhaps he has some cute friends.”

“Yes! That’s the right attitude. Either you get with Julian or with someone else, but you’re not allowed to be lonely all your life. I won’t allow it.”

She was teasing, but a part of me realized the truth of her words.

I was twenty-five. I did want love in my life, despite the things I might say to the contrary. And while Julian was undoubtedly not the right candidate, he had certainly made me remember that men existed.

And that some were very, very, very charming.

He was also very good at reminding me that he existed-there was a text waiting for me when I got home from Denise’s.

Julian: 14 Rosso Blvd at 0700 on Thursday.

That was all he’d written-an order.

I googled the place. It was a fancy French restaurant, with photos of white linen cloths and candles. It looked… intimate.

Emily: No way. That’s far too romantic. What if someone recognizes us? Or rather, you?

Julian: You’d rather we share a meal at some fast food restaurant along a highway? You’re killing me, Ace.

Emily: I have a better suggestion. Kalispera. It’s a Greek place with an appropriately friendly atmosphere.

Julian: I’ll hold you to that.

Nerves settled in my stomach.

I could almost see it: Julian’s powerful suit-clad frame and manly appearance in that small, homely place, all folded up on a wooden chair. Long legs stretched out in front and a smirk on his face. I’d force him to eat tons of tzatziki and dolmades and make sure I got to know my boss better.

For professional purposes, of course-but there was no lying to myself. I would enjoy spending time with him.

The prospect of telling Turner where I was going was impossible. He was going to ask questions, require an explanation, and I could hardly explain it to myself. It would make it real, real in a way it certainly wasn’t, not yet. Besides, he was Turner’s boss as well-not just mine.

So with guilt and nerves churning in my stomach, I said I was going out with Denise for dinner.

Turner didn’t even look up from his book. “Meeting her again so soon?””Yes.”

“Good. You need friends.” He turned a page and continued reading. My kind, beautiful brother. Of course that would be his response. “That’s actually perfect because some of the software engineers want to go out for a drink on Thursday evening and I debated whether I should join them. If you’re not home I can go.”

I frowned. “You’re nineteen. No way you’re going out.”

Turner glanced up at me with all the exasperation of a younger sibling. “Emily, it’s not a club. It’s a bar frequented by coders around the corner from work and I hear they don’t check IDs. I have no interest in trying alcohol. I will order a diet Pepsi and I plan on staying for an hour, maybe even an hour and a half if the conversation is interesting.”