Under His Roof - Love Under Lockdown

Hopefully all this will be over soon, and things can go back to normal. That would be such a welcome relief.

As I pull up outside of the office, I sigh a little. I want to groan because I know it’s going to be another long and busy day. I put my car in park and wait a few moments.

I need to mentally prepare myself to get through the next eight hours. My daydreams and fantasies usually help with this. The only bright spot in everything is getting to work with my workplace crush. I giggle a little at that thought.

Still, though, I’m getting kind of tired of this same routine. I grab my purse and get out of the car. I lock it, then walk into the office. Though I like being near my hot, rich boss, I’m not really thrilled to be here right now.

I walk in and notice that it’s quiet today. The building appears almost empty. I expected that. There are only a few of us left working here. I keep my head down as I walk to my desk. I usually keep to myself and try not to associate with my coworkers.

I set my things down and turn on my computer. I have a bunch of tasks I need to get done today. My whole life pretty much revolves around my work. I’d like to think this has made me better at my job. I certainly hope it has.

Maybe my dedication will get Matt to notice me?

I tell myself to get realistic and concentrate on work. I’m forever scolding or mentally reprimanding myself about something or other. Usually it’s because I’ve gotten distracted, which happens at work a lot.

I glance around my desk and see a memo sitting on top. It must be recent. I pick it up and read it, then check the clock.

Holy fuck!

It’s from my boss. Mr. Barnes.

He wants to meet me in his office in a few minutes. My heart starts pounding as I put the memo back. I run my fingers through my hair and pull my skirt down a little. I’m being silly, I know, this is just business, but the feelings I have for him cause me to get a little carried away at times.

I know that nothing can happen between us; not only because he is my boss, but also because of the type of person that he is. Still, there’s always that small part of me that plays it out in fantasies in my head.

I realize I’m wasting time and so I hurry to grab my notepad and pen. I want to run over there, but I remind myself to stay calm. I take a deep breath and walk slowly to his office.

I pause outside and then knock on the door. He’s been expecting me, and he immediately waves me in.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” I ask as I stand nervously in front of his desk.

He looks up from his paperwork and stares at me.

“Yes. Thanks for coming by when you saw my memo. I needed to talk to you about something important to the firm. As I’m sure you know, this virus has been restricting a lot of activity and forcing a lot of people out of their jobs,” he states.

I start to get a little worried, so I just nod at what he says. He continues talking.

“I have received information that the government will issue a mandatory quarantine. This means the office will have to close and those that have still been working here will have to do so from home. Since you are my assistant, I’ll still need your help.”

He pauses before continuing, and I swear he looks me up and down for a few seconds.

What kind of help does he have in mind? I wonder.

My palms are sweaty and my panties are so wet.

“I’d like to offer you the opportunity to stay at my house and work from my home office with me. I can pay you a hefty bonus if you accept, because I know this is a big request.”

He looks at me, but this time directly in my eyes, awaiting my answer. It takes me a few minutes to figure out how to respond.

This conversation sure took an unexpected turn.

“Um, of course. I’d be happy to help,” I shakily reply.

I hope my wide eyes don’t betray my real feelings about this. Which are that I’m thrilled. Ecstatic. He nods, pleased with my answer.

“I’ll get ahold of you later in the day with the schedule and address and everything else you’ll need,” he says briskly, before turning his attention back to his papers.

“Very good, sir,” I answer.

I don’t normally speak to him this formally. But something tells me he’ll like it. Or maybe I just don’t want to betray the giddy school-girl-ish-ness I’m feeling inside.