The Boss (The Boss 1)

“I’m not in the market for anything serious, either. At least not right now. Not for a while.” It wasn’t a ploy; having a boyfriend was fairly low on my list of priorities. “I just got a life of my own two years ago, when I graduated college. I’m not ready to share it with anyone else.”

He smiled with... was that admiration? I didn’t think I’d said anything all that admirable, just honest.

“That sounds fair. But earlier today you suggested we might see each other casually.” How did he manage to sound so reasonable and smart while being stinking drunk? It probably had a lot to do with the accent. He could have come in here and said he was turning Porteras into a car magazine, and I would have praised his vision, because he sounded so cultured and posh.

God, I could be so stereotypically American sometimes.

I shrugged. “That was before I really thought about the job you offered me. I would love to take the position, but the last thing I need is to have people saying I got a promotion because I slept with the boss.”

“That would be a problem, if we were indiscreet. Do you plan on broadcasting all of our sexual activities to the entire office?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No, of course not.” I tried to think of a time I’d ever... Oh, fine. I’m caught. “I do occasionally discuss private matters with one of my work friends.”

“So do I, which is exactly why I’m here.” He motioned to the couch. “Do you mind if we—”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” I covered my eyes with one hand, but it didn’t do much to hide my embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I don’t entertain much.”

“On the contrary, you entertain me immensely.” He sat on the couch and frowned as he picked up the hemostat Holli used as a roach clip. The burned down end of a healthy sized joint was still clamped tightly in the pinchers. I grabbed it from his hand and in my panic, tossed it over my shoulder to clatter on the kitchenette floor.

“It’s my roommate’s,” I explained quickly. “I would never—”

“Don’t be so jumpy, I’m not here to inform on you.” He patted the sofa beside him, but I didn’t sit there. I sat on the arm of the easy chair, well out of the field of his sexual magnetism.

Who was I kidding? He could be in Finland right now, and my girl parts would still be all achey at the thought of him. Just the fact that he’d said “our sexual activities” had sent my pulse due south.

“Sorry, I thought I might have shocked you.” Why had I said that? Maybe explaining further would make things better. “You know, different generation and all.”

Explaining further never made awkwardness better. I should have known that by now.

“Yes, terribly shocking,” he mockingly agreed. “Since youth and recreational drug use were invented only five years ago, I’ve obviously never been exposed to either.”

My face flamed with embarrassment. “Did you come over here just to tease me?”

His expression softened into one of remorse at hurting my feelings. “I think it’s quite obvious that I came over here because I’m still attracted to you. I’ve thought of you every day. I may have said that before, but it bears repeating. If I hadn’t stolen your plane ticket— and let me express again how very sorry I am about that, in hindsight—”

“Forgiven,” I interrupted him. The sudden shift in his mood seemed to have less to do with alcohol than with me, and I was flattered and slightly overwhelmed. But something he’d said before wriggled in my brain. “You said you talked to a work colleague, and that’s why you’re here?”

“Rudy,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, I know he works with you, but he’s been my best friend for years. I suppose it does change the dynamic, now that he’s working for my company... but I needed to speak to someone. He’s the only person in my life who knows about you, how we met. And he’s the only person in New York I trust in personal matters. There was a bit of a custody battle, and I lost most of my friends here.”

I frowned. “I thought your daughter was twenty-four.”

“Custody of the friends.” He smiled sadly. “Acquaintances, really. I spend a lot of my time working. Elizabeth made most of our connections here through her charity work.”

“Ah.” I really, really didn’t want to talk about his divorce, almost as much as I didn’t want to think about him being lonely in the city. I remembered the two weeks at NYU before housing had dropped Holli into my lap, how awful and empty they had seemed. I didn’t need to sympathize with Neil in that way, because it was just another excuse to get involved with him for a wrong reason. If we were going to do this, we were going to do it right.