Charming Co-Worker: Holiday RomCom Standalone

by Lauren Runow

  “Your shirt is on backward,” she observes with a mischievous grin.

  Looking down, I see she’s right. I pull my arms through the sleeve holes and rotate the shirt around my body, righting it. “I was distracted. It was like Twenty Questions out here.”

  She holds up three fingers. “It was three, and the last answer was fascinating.”

  “It’s not what you think. Hunter was just giving me pointers on how to seduce Branson. I got carried away and kissed him. Yes”—I hold up my hand before she can ask the question—“I kissed him, not the other way around, so don’t go reading too much into it. It was a mistake.”

  She cocks her head while raising a brow. “All right, fine. I won’t press but only because I know you’re a private person. I’m just curious.” She takes a purposeful pause before asking, “Do you still want Branson now as much as you did before you kissed another man?”

  Looking down, I try to think why she’d ask such a question. “Of course I do.”

  “You hesitated.”

  With a heavy breath, I lean into the doorframe and admit to my best friend, “Because it was a really good kiss. But good kisses don’t equate to love. I just wish Branson would kiss me that way.”

  With a kindhearted smile, she puts her hand on my shoulder and pulls me into a hug. “He will, sweetie. You know, for a girl with a ton of pictures of castles on the walls of our apartment, it’s a shame you haven’t had your own happily ever after. I’m rooting for you to get that and more.” With a pat, she pulls away and adds, “You just have to kiss some frogs before you get your prince. Tomorrow’s another day. If it feels right, tell him so.”

  “Tell who?” I ask absentmindedly.

  “Branson,” she answers like I have seventeen heads. “Man, that was definitely some kiss, huh? Why don’t you get a good night’s sleep? That dazed head of yours needs some z’s for sure.”

  “I’ll agree to that. You’ll be up for coffee in the morning?”

  “You know it.” She walks into her room, and I close the door to mine.

  Sleep is what I need. I just hope my dreams are about the right man. The one I want to have kiss me tomorrow.

  Chapter Four

  “Branson Ford’s office,” I say as I answer the phone.

  “Morning. It’s Nigel Vargas,” he speaks loudly on the other end of the line.

  I grab a pen and notepad, ready to jot down a quick note. “Morning, Mr. Vargas. Did you have a good time at the holiday festivity last night?”

  “Empire Media knows how to throw a party. You scurried out of there early,” he says, and I’m surprised he noticed.

  “I had a drink with a co-worker.”

  My hand brushes my lips as I remember the kiss Hunter and I shared at the bar. I lay in bed last night and played it over and over in my head.

  That kiss and his desire to walk me home made me temporarily forget about Branson, and that’s just silly. You don’t harbor a crush for a person for as long as I have and then just cast aside those feelings because of another person’s strong lips and magnetic gaze. Especially when it’s coming from someone who vocally says they don’t believe in love.

  Mr. Vargas says something on the other end of the line, snapping me from my thoughts. I’m about to reply as Branson opens the main office door, drawing my attention. He gives me that million-dollar smile as he walks in with his briefcase in hand and his coat covering his forearm.

  With my palm over the receiver, I whisper to him, “Vargas is on the phone.”

  Branson makes an X with his full arms and shakes his head. I nod, and it earns me a wink.

  “I’ll have him call you as soon as he gets in,” I say into the phone and watch as Branson heads into his office.

  Through the door opening, I can see him hang his coat on the rack and place his briefcase on the desk. He’s going through his papers as I hang up the phone.

  Standing up, I lay my palms over my stomach and take a long, deep breath. I wore a white button-down, tucked into a gray pencil skirt, and Mary Jane high heels—something I thought was sexy but in a conservative way.

  I look in the mirror on the wall near my desk and appraise my outfit. My long blonde hair is blown out and cascading down my shoulders. I’m wearing red lipstick today, which I’ve never done before. Despite the red, I still look very stiff.

  I undo a button on my blouse, putting my cleavage on display. “Oh, what the hell? Let’s go for two buttons,” I mutter to myself.

  I’ve never been so brazen. In fact, my hands were trembling at just the undoing of a single button.

  Am I really going to come on to my boss at nine thirty in the morning?

  Well, you have to start somewhere.

  My hands shake as I walk over to Branson’s doorway. He’s checking his email, staring at the monitor with an expression showing he’s slightly annoyed at what’s on the screen.

  I take a step forward and stop. He doesn’t notice me standing here. I glance down at my open shirt and push my shoulders back, hoping to make myself more bountiful than my modest B cup.

  With my head raised, I clear my throat.

  Branson turns his attention to me. “Hi, Katherine. I need the reports on the ratings an hour earlier than usual. I want to bring them to my ten o’clock.”

  “They’re already done,” I say with a smile and take a step forward as his gaze goes back to his computer.

  Okay, so that didn’t work.

  With a more purposeful attempt, I walk all the way up to his desk and lay a hand on top of the mahogany, leaning forward. Branson is still typing as his chin moves toward me and then his eyes. When they see me propped there—rather seductively, I should add—his brows rise, and his sight lands right on my chest.

  And now, I’m panicking.

  Branson is looking at my breasts. Why is he looking at my breasts? Because you wanted him to. I know, but … oh dear … now, I’m think-talking to myself. And he’s still looking at my boobs.

  His focus startles, and his gaze meets mine. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  This is it, Katie. What was it Hunter said to do? Eye contact? Yeah, you got that part down. Compliment him! Yes …

  “Your eyes are …” I fidget with a paper clip on the desk and spin it around my finger while swallowing down this anxious feeling running through my body. “They’re a blue that’s so …” I stare into them and try to remember what it was I said to Hunter. He said to be honest. “Blue?”

  He tilts his head in confusion, leaning back in his chair and staring at me a beat longer than usual. “You’re just realizing this now?”

  “No,” I state. “Actually, I’ve been noticing you for—”

  “There you are,” a man’s deep voice announces from behind me and I glance to see who.

  It’s not just any man. It’s Hunter. I’d know that swagger anywhere.

  I take a quick inhale, embarrassed, hoping he didn’t just see that god-awful performance.

  I stand up jerkily and turn to him. He’s in the doorway, wearing a black suit, black tie, and a pissed off expression.

  My eyes widen at him and then shoot to the side, silently asking him what the hell he’s doing here.

  His orbs darken at the sight of my open blouse and then round at my hair covering my shoulders. His gaze skirts to Branson reclining in his leather chair and to where I was just leaning over the desk.

  With an expression of sheer determination, Hunter struts toward me, laces a hand around my waist, and pulls me into him. My body’s flush against his as his mouth comes crashing onto mine in a strong kiss. I lose consciousness as his tongue enters my mouth and he pulls me down the rabbit hole with his passionate embrace. I kiss him back but only momentarily.

  I raise my arm in the air, about to push him away, but his thumb glides along my spine, and the sensation has me falling deeper into the kiss. My knees wobble, and I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten what day of the week it is.

  When he releases me,
I’m breathless and shaken.

  It only takes a second for my face to ignite with rage.

  I open my mouth to speak, but he says the first word, “I’ve been looking for my beautiful girl all morning.” He spins me in his arms, so I’m now facing Branson. “Sorry, boss, but you don’t mind if I whisk her away for a few minutes, do you?”

  “What are you doing?” I whisper-ask him.

  I try to move, but he grips me tighter.

  Hunter laughs. “This vixen. She snuck out of bed this morning and didn’t say good-bye.” He nuzzles my neck and coos loudly enough for Branson to hear, “After a night like we had, I was hoping to see you before work.”

  My eyes feel like they’re about to bulge out of my head. “Hunter, you—”

  “You don’t need her right now, do you?” he asks, and the tone sounds awfully accusatory.

  I try to turn in Hunter’s arm to tell him off when Branson lets out a grunt, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie.

  “Snogging, eh? I didn’t realize you two had copped off. Are you now a couple?”

  “No,” I say as Hunter says, “Yes. Baby, it’s okay.”

  He rests his chin on my shoulder. His mouth is so close to my neck that I can feel his breath on my skin. “I cleared it with Human Resources. There’s no problem with us dating since you don’t report to me.”

  Branson raises a brow as he takes in the sight of Hunter holding me from behind, cocooning me. “I hope this isn’t another one of your escapades. I happen to like Katherine and don’t need her quitting when this all goes south.”

  “This isn’t any woman. Katie is special,” Hunter says, standing tall with his arms still around me.

  I should say something, but I’m in shock at how he’s behaving. I’m at a loss for words.

  “She is,” Branson says as he stands up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the loo.”

  “You do that,” Hunter says over his shoulder as Branson walks out of the room and through my administrative area.

  When he is out of earshot, I spin out of Hunter’s grasp and punch him in the arm. “What is wrong with you?”

  He kisses me on the cheek and then walks around Branson’s desk, taking a seat in the leather chair. “I was saving you. It’s okay to thank me.” He leans back and puts his hands behind his head and his feet on the desk.

  My arms rise in exasperation. “Thank you? I was about to make my move!”

  The smile on his face dissipates. “Yeah, about that … I was wrong. Coming on to him like that is a bad idea. Women throw themselves at Branson Ford every day. He doesn’t want that kind of woman.”

  I let out a frustrated huff. “And you think kissing me in front of him is the way to go?”

  Hunter makes a pointed-gun gesture and shoots it at me. “Bingo. You just earned yourself a boyfriend.”

  I’d laugh if I thought he was kidding, but from his cocky demeanor and the fact that he literally just claimed me in front of the man I was attempting to seduce, I know for certain that he’s dead serious.

  “I find it hard to believe you’re in the habit of playing pretend.”

  Hunter moves his feet off the desk and stands up, taking determined steps around the mahogany barrier between us. “I enjoy a good role-play. Just not usually out of the confines of the bedroom.”

  I roll my eyes, “I was just about to—”

  “Make a fool out of yourself by being something you’re not. You’re not a seductress, Katie. You’re clever. The girlfriend type. Don’t try to get him by lessening your worth. Show him what he’s missing out on. Make him want what he can’t have.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I’ve played racquetball with the guy every week for three years. I’ve learned a thing or two, and trust me, this isn’t what he wants.”

  I cross my arms in front of my body and bite my lip in contemplation. He’s not entirely wrong. I was feeling like a two-bit tramp there for a moment. Maybe he’s right. Perhaps showing Branson I’m a sexy woman who men want is the way to go.

  I sway back and forth. “It’s not the worst idea.”

  He lowers his head, so his caramel eyes are level with mine. “Mad at me?”

  If he wasn’t so damn charming, I would be. But I can’t be. Not when he’s looking at me with that devilish grin.

  I lean forward and wipe a smear of red lipstick off his mouth. “A little.”

  “What can I do to make it up to you?”

  “Well, I hope you plan on seeing this through. You just declared yourself as my boyfriend in front of the man I want to be my real boyfriend. How exactly does this work?”

  He twists his mouth and rubs his hand on the back of his neck. “I was improvising. A plan wasn’t exactly formed yet.”

  I growl in frustration, which earns me a smile as he gives my head a noogie.

  “Lucky for you, I work best under pressure. We have to set parameters though. Rules per se,” he says, and before I can even argue, he holds up a finger. “Rule number one: two weeks. It’s long enough to seem genuine and short enough to be realistic.”

  “Two weeks? I wanted Branson for Christmas, and now, I’ll be lucky if he’s mine by New Year’s!”

  “Work with me, and your New Year’s kiss will be with the man you love.”

  I grumble as I hold up two fingers, “Then, rule number two is, no dating anyone else. I don’t want rumors going around that you’re cheating on me.”

  He nods his agreement. “Rule number three: no hitting on the boss.”

  “Four: no more assaulting me in public like that.”

  “My lips are an assault?” He steps back with his hands over his heart, like he’s offended.

  “Well, yeah, kinda. I mean, I enjoy kissing you. I just don’t like to be taken so off guard. It’s disarming,” I explain. “And I do have a plan to create a long-term career at this company. Professional decorum is greatly appreciated.”

  “Noted,” he says and then adds, “says the girl who was just trying to seduce her boss.”

  I stomp my foot, which he seems to find charming.

  “I do have one very serious rule,” he says.

  “What’s that?”

  He steps up close to me and holds up his hands near my blouse, halting in midair as his eyes ask for permission. I nod then he draws closer and lays his fingers on the buttons of my blouse, fastening the second button. “No showing off your body unless it’s for you.”

  “Or you?” I muse. “Have you ever been someone’s boyfriend before?”

  He doesn’t answer me. “Only show your body off for a man if it makes you feel good to do so.”

  He’s said so many poignant things in the course of five minutes that I’m mad for losing myself for a moment.

  I suppose, deep down, my concern is, “What if what I am isn’t what he wants?”

  He smiles the most reassuring smile I’ve ever seen. “Trust me, you are.”

  The way he makes that statement so easily surprises me. It’s said with conviction and meaning, so much so that I think he one hundred percent believes it.

  “Don’t go falling in love with me, Katie,” he jokes quietly.

  “My heart’s already taken,” I say, and his gaze falls to the floor as he smiles to himself.

  I tilt my head to bring his attention back to my face. I wasn’t lying last night when I said his focus makes me feel like I’m the most important person in the room. Even now, as he looks back at me with warmth in his eyes, staring deep into mine like he has my back, I feel so incredibly important to him.

  The sound of Branson’s heavy footsteps cause me to stride away from Hunter and face the doorway, where my boss is walking back in.

  “You two lovebirds ready to get back to work?” Branson says, sounding agitated.

  “Yes, sir. I have those reports for you on my desk.” I start to move, but Hunter pulls me in.

  “Don’t work my girl too hard.” He kisses my jaw and then smacks my ass, making
me yelp. “I’m taking her to dinner tonight.”

  I shoot him an evil eye as I walk back to my desk, and he saunters out into the hallway.

  When I look back toward Branson, he’s eyeing me quizzically as I sink into my chair.

  In the course of twenty minutes, I went from a half-assed seductress to having the office lothario as my pretend boyfriend.

  Lord knows what else can happen by the end of the day.

  Chapter Five

  This day has felt like it would never end.

  Branson, who usually goes through his schedule smoothly, seems to be off-balance. He forgot files in his office, making me run them down to meetings. He even misplaced his phone, which, after an extensive search, was right next to him. It’s made for a frustrating afternoon since every time I start on one of my own tasks, he needs my help with something else.

  As the time draws close for Branson’s scheduled car pickup, there’s a knock on the door. To my surprise, Hunter strolls in.

  I give him a bewildered expression as he stands in front of my desk with his hands in his coat, staring down at me, looking like he’s waiting on me to go somewhere.

  “I told you I was taking you out,” he answers my unasked question.

  I look from side to side, trying to figure out what I’m missing. “You were serious about that?”

  Branson heads out of his office, stopping in his tracks at the sight of Hunter. “Oh. Hi,” he says to Hunter and then nods as if he just remembered something. “You’re picking her up for your date?”

  “I have a whole evening planned,” Hunter says, standing up as tall as he can, which is silly because he’s a good three inches taller than Branson.

  Branson gives the two of us an easy smile. “Well, you two have a smashing evening. Cheerio.”

  As he leaves, I shut down my computer and wait for it to turn off. “Your act is cute, but I’m not really in the mood for it. It’s been a long day.”

  “Don’t you eat dinner?” he asks me as I rise and grab my coat.

  “I do. But the real kind. Not the fake-boyfriend kind.”