The Boss hole (An Enemies To Lovers Romance)

“Hm,” she said. “If you say so.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the knowing look on her face but decided to ignore it. I took her to the table where the others were, noticing how they all looked like they were trying to decide if they’d get fired for scattering to the far corners of the room to avoid me.

“Everyone,” I said, “This is Jules. I know you’ve seen her around the office, but I’ve kept her a little too busy to make introductions.”

The others gingerly set down food or drinks to reach out and shake her hand. I’d been worried the men would slobber all over her, but they looked like scared dogs. I hadn’t considered how it would look with me personally walking her over here. Everybody knew they were being watched. Or they think you’ve claimed the personal assistant for yourself, dumbass.

I hoped I wasn’t being so obvious.

Once introductions were through, everybody else scooted a little bit away from us and split into groups, leaving me and Jules mostly alone by the table of drinks.

“Have something to drink. Eat, too. I know you missed dinner,” I said.

Jules put a hand on her stomach, looking longingly at the food. “Would it be weird if I had a little bit of everything?”

“Make yourself comfortable,” I said. “I’m going to finish up something in my office. You know where to find me if you need me.”

“You’re bailing on your own party?” she asked with a slice of pizza in one hand and a piece of crusty naan bread in the other.

“I’ll be in the office. I just need to handle a couple things.”

Jules shook her head. “It’s not healthy to be that focused on work, you know. Everybody is scared of you. Maybe if they saw you relax and let loose a little they wouldn’t be so terrified.”

“It’s good that they’re scared. I’m their boss. It keeps them from thinking we can be friends. They do their work well and they keep their jobs. It’s simpler this way, and I don’t have to worry about my personal feelings clouding my judgment.”

“Right,” Jules said. She stared at her pizza and bread like she’d just had an incredible idea. I watched in distant horror as she folded the pizza inside the bread and took a bite, then nodded appreciatively. “It’s a good thing you’re so skilled at being professional with your employees. Imagine if you saw these people in their panties or went dress shopping for them, right?”

“I owe you an apology,” I said, even though I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I hadn’t been lying before. I didn’t apologize to employees. If they didn’t like it, they left. That was how it worked. So what the hell was I doing? “I crossed the line, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Mr. White just apologized to me?” she put a hand to her chest in a show of mock amazement. Then she smoothed her expression and formed a small, pretty smile before locking those big blue eyes of hers on me. “I appreciate it. But I also think I like you better when you’re crossing lines. It’s an improvement over growling at me about all the calls I need to make for you or how full your inbox is. It makes you a little more human, and that’s not entirely bad.”

I hadn’t been planning on drinking, but I picked up a cup and filled it with a finger of tequila. With a shrug, I threw the drink back and gave Jules a shrug. “Maybe it would be good for productivity if I appeared to enjoy myself.”

“See?” she said, raising her naan and pizza abomination for a toast. “Fun can be good.”

I gave her a reluctant smirk, poured another shot in my cup, then raised it to meet her toast. “To appearing to have fun.”

“No,” she said. “To forgetting about appearances.”

A healthy intake of alcohol helped me begin to do exactly that. As the minutes rolled on and the alcohol took effect, it suddenly didn’t seem as important to always be a hardass in front of my employees. They were having fun once I showed them it was okay to let loose, and there was an infectious quality to Jules. The others were still keeping their distance from us, but Jules was going into painful detail about her favorite book series.

I was doing my best to listen as she told me about how all the men could turn into dragons and the women were fairy creatures, but she was utterly distracting. Her lips were hypnotic, and her mannerisms were adorable. She had a way of getting unusually close when she talked until her breasts were in danger of pressing against me with every wild waving hand gesture she made.

“And of course,” she said, speech just beginning to slur slightly from the drinks she’d had. “Every dragon man is extremely well endowed. It’s only natural.”