Falling For Her Boss

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Falling For Her Boss Page 7

by Tracy Reed


  I wanted to throw my phone against the wall. I heard the door open and when I turned around, she took my breath away. I walked over, closed the door, and placed her bag on the edge of the table. I took her in my arms, and we slowly swayed to the soulful music I requested for the evening. She looked up at me smiling. At that moment all I wanted was those lips pressed against mine, before taking complete control of her tongue.

  I remember the first time she gave me that look. I covered those full sexy lips with mine not waiting for permission, but going by her body language. She may not want to sleep with me, but I knew she wanted me to kiss her. My hands eased down the small of her back and pulled her so close we seemed to melt into one person. I kissed her harder and she dug her hands into my neck, drawing me deeper into her space.

  The chemistry and passion between us is overwhelming. I felt my body starting to react and I didn’t want her to think I couldn’t control myself, but I wasn’t ready to let her go either. I moved my mouth across her cheek, grabbed her ear lobe between my teeth and she let out a deep gasp. Her seductive parfum traveled up my nose and it reignited the fire I was trying to sit on.

  My phone rang again with Tony’s ringtone and I wanted to curse him for calling me. I knew answering it, meant I would have to be separated from Gabriella’s sexy swollen lips. So I ignored it, but it kept ringing.

  She pulled back and looked up at me. “You know he won’t stop calling until you answer.”

  I picked up my phone and pressed the button.“Yes…what…no…” I looked at my watch. “I can be there in a couple of hours…I know…bye.” I pressed the button ending the call.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Seattle.” She patted my chest. “The person I wanted to hire turned down my offer.”

  “So, go with an interim person until you find a permanent solution.”

  I love her innocence. My second interim choice is her, but she’s not ready yet. “They aren’t available.”

  “The past month I’ve watched you work, and something as minor as availability isn’t going to stop you.”

  “I’ve got Tony working on it.”

  “Problem solved.”

  “Not exactly. Even if I get an interim person in place by the end of the week, it will take Tony at least two weeks to get the new person up to speed.”

  “Then do it.”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You said now that our relationship had changed, you would feel better if he traveled with us.” I quickly reminded her of her request.

  “I would , but…”

  We’re scheduled to leave for Europe at the end of the week.

  I felt her tensing up. “I know I’m asking a lot, but I need you to trust me.”

  “It’s not you I don’t trust.” She looked up at me with a slight smile.

  I leaned back. “You don’t trust yourself to be alone with me?”

  “Not so much that…it’s Paris. I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s a very romantic city and no matter how good our intentions may be, something could happen.”

  She caught me off guard with her statement, but she’s right. I know she has concerns. The last time I was in Paris, was with Chantal shortly before we broke up. I took her there hoping to rekindle our relationship. Instead, a month after we got back, we broke up. In spite of the tension, we had an amazing time and some of the best sex of our relationship.

  “I promise nothing will happen that we don’t want to happen.”

  “Maybe we need to set some rules.”

  “Rules?” I smiled.

  “Yes. No late night walks, picnics, intimate dinners and rooms on separate floors.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. I’m not agreeing to any of that.”

  “I thought we agreed to take our relationship slow?”

  “We are. We’re both adults and if we can’t trust each other, then there’s no sense in us going any further with this relationship.” I kissed her. “I’m not going to Paris with my girlfriend and treat her like a stranger.”

  “Girlfriend? That’s not a slow word,” she smiled.

  “For me it is,” I smiled.

  “I guess my boyfriend is taking me to Paris.”

  Chapter Eleven

  gabriella

  * * *

  I tried to sneak into the house. I attribute my stupidity to the wine and the kisses from Phillippe. I walked inside and it was dark except for the light in the kitchen, and the one at the top of the stairs. I turned the lights off and went to my room.

  I sat on the side of the bed, replaying the evening and the conversation with Phillippe. He’s right. If I’m not going to trust him, I need to walk away now.

  I took my phone out of my bag and before I could plug it into the charger, it started vibrating. I pressed the button to read the text…Mon Amour, I really enjoyed serving and dining with you. Have to cancel our date for tomorrow. On my way to Seattle. Will call you later. Bonne nuit, Phillippe. I texted back…Have a safe trip…Bonne nuit, Gabriella.

  I got undressed and climbed into bed. I lay down staring at the ceiling and praying. I know in the morning my mother is going to be full of questions and right now, I don’t have suitable answers. I had the truth…I’m dating my boss and while we’re in Europe, we’re going to really get to know each other. I kept rehearsing my speech until I fell asleep.

  I rolled over and the smell of coffee infiltrated my dream and woke me up. I climbed out of bed, went into to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and washed off what was left of last night’s makeup. I tamed my wild hair and put on my robe. I looked at my clock. It was nine thirty. I can’t believe I slept that long.

  I went downstairs. I was hoping to avoid my mom, but I knew that wasn’t possible. When I walked around the corner and into the kitchen, she was standing at the counter reading the paper and drinking coffee. I coughed and she looked up. “Morning, Sunshine or should I say Mon Amour.”

  My eyes almost popped out of their socket. “Uhm…”

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” I sat down and she placed a tall white mug in front of me and filled it with hot, black coffee. I took a couple of long sips, hoping the hot liquid would burn my tongue rendering me unable to speak. No such luck. I placed the cup on the counter and looked my mother in the eye.

  “Let’s talk.”

  I swallowed hard. My insides were turning, and not in a good way. This wasn’t the jumpy, excited stomach I get when I’m with Phillippe. This was the nervous stomach I get when I know I’m about to be interrogated by my mother.

  Funny thing, my dad’s the lawyer, yet my mother is much better at extracting information. Maybe she was a spy in her former life. Because no matter how thorough I am in trying to get information out of her, she never cracks. How does she know, Phillippe’s pet name for me?

  I was scared to take my eyes off of her. I took another couple of sips of caffeine for courage, but I was never any good at playing chicken. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “How was dinner?”

  This is clearly a trick question. My mother says she never asks a question she doesn’t know the answer to. If she’s asking me about dinner, then she knows it wasn’t a business meeting, but a date.

  “Good.” I tried not to smile or think about the amazing food and wine or the make out session in the private dining room. I sipped some more coffee.

  “Where did you go?”

  Another trap. I wish she’d just come right out and ask. But she won’t because that would be showing her hand, and she never shows her hand until she’s ready.

  “I wasn’t paying attention when the driver dropped me off.”

  She nodded. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “What time did you get home?”

  Okay, I know she knows the answer to this one. I sat up straight and owned my answer. “I got home a little after mi
dnight. How was your evening?…what did you and daddy do?” I tried to shift the focus onto her.

  “Your dad turned in early because he had a breakfast meeting, and I sat in bed reading. I must have dosed off right before you got home.” She returned her attention to the newspaper. “Any plans today?”

  My eyes got wide. How does she know about my date? I swear she has a tracker embedded in me. I sipped some more caffeinated courage and retraced my steps from last night. Then it occurred to me. I vaguely recall her coming in to my room and looking at my phone, but I thought that was a dream.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the screen. There was a text from Phillippe…Good morning, Mon Amour. Should be home late tonight. How about taking our drive and picnic tomorrow? Phillippe. Crap! Crap! Crap! Busted!

  She looked at me and her gaze sent a chill through my body. “So, how much longer do you want to dance around this?”

  I placed my phone on the counter and braced myself for this conversation. “What do you want to know?”

  The End

  The Good Girl Part Deux

  TRACY REED

  Chapter Twelve

  gabriella

  * * *

  There was no skirting around the subject. As much as I wanted to keep my relationship with Phillippe a secret, I was outed by a simple text. I gathered up my newfound boldness and repeated my question, “What do you want to know?”

  My mother looked at me with a stone face. I looked at her, waiting on her to answer my question. This silent standoff wasn’t good. It meant she had several questions for me, and was just figuring out which one to ask first.

  I took another long sip from the large white mug she handed me. The hot coffee was good, but I really needed something solid in my stomach. I looked at the end of the counter and spotted a plate of her fluffy biscuits and strawberry jam.

  My mother is an amazing cook. Her eyes remained fixed on me. “Would you like a biscuit?”

  Another trick question. If I took the biscuit, she gained the upper hand. If I didn’t, she still won because I might pass out from hunger pangs. Last night’s dinner had long worn off and I really needed something to fill the hole in my food bank.

  I foolishly gave in. “Yes, please.” I started to get up.

  “No, let me.” She walked down to the end of the counter, picked up the plate and jam and placed them in front of me. “Bacon?”

  I was definitely being set up. She knew I loved bacon. If I was headed to slaughter, I might as well go on a full stomach. I swallowed hard. “Yes please.”

  I sliced open a warm biscuit, and piled on some butter and sweet strawberry jam on one half. I bit down and savored the bite. She fixed me a plate with some bacon, eggs and tomatoes and placed it in front of me. “Thank you.” She went back to her place on the other side of the counter. This torture was nerve-wracking. At least I had something in my stomach. Not that it would help me in my interrogation.

  “At what time in the past month did you decide to become a cliché?”

  A cliché? I’m not a cliché. A cliché would be me sleeping with my boss to get ahead. On the contrary, if this relationship tanks, I might become the first woman in history to get promoted because she didn’t have sex with her boyfriend slash boss.

  “I don’t understand.” That was a lie.

  “Let me re-phrase my question. Why are you being an idiot?”

  I wasn’t being an idiot either. It wasn’t like I set out to fall for my boss. It just happened. At least that’s the answer I came up with last night while lying in bed.

  “I’m not being an idiot.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to make sure being his bed buddy wasn’t part of your job description?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Did I ask for your commentary?”

  What the crap! She asked me a question and now she doesn’t want me to answer.

  “Gabriella Christina Townsend, have you completely lost your mind?” I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to speak or not, so I put another forkful of eggs in my mouth. “What is it about this man that makes you think it’s nothing more than an office fling?”

  I wasn’t sure if this was just an office fling. It could very well end tomorrow, or before I leave for Europe. But I knew I planned on enjoying myself as long as it lasted. For the first time in my life, I was the pretty girl. The girl everyone in the room noticed because I was with the hot guy. So right now, I didn’t want to think about the possibility that this relationship could disintegrate at any moment. I just wanted to linger in the haze of adoration that comes with a new relationship.

  I swallowed the savory biscuit, wiped my mouth and was prepared to answer her, but my phone started ringing with a familiar ringtone. I reached for it and she snatched it up, looked at the screen and handed it to me.

  I didn’t need to look at the screen, because I knew who it was. I pressed the Ignore Call button, and stuffed some more eggs and bacon into my mouth. This was going to be a long standoff. In spite of her being upset with me, she still made the best biscuits. I broke off another piece and shoved it into my mouth. Her biscuits reminded me of the ones I had with Phillippe. I took another long sip of the hot liquid to wash down my biscuit and my phone rang again with the same ring tone.

  “I know you don’t want me to answer it.”

  I put my cup down, picked up my phone, and pressed the Answer Call button. “Good morning, Mr. Marchant.”

  “Really?” my mother mumbled as she shook her head. “We’re not finished with this.”

  I went outside, hoping for a little privacy. I exhaled and placed the phone to my ear. “Mon amour, why are you being so formal?”

  “I was talking with my mother and…”

  “I understand. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  He wouldn’t say that if he knew she was set to castrate him. “I got your text. When will you be back?”

  “Not until the end of the week.”

  “Oh.”

  “Seems I have to cancel our date.”

  “I understand.”

  “Seems we just got started and…”

  “Phillippe, it’s not a big deal, really.”

  “But…”

  “I understand work comes first.

  “No, it’s a priority, but you come first.”

  “Phillippe, I told you, I’m not like the other women you’ve been with. I don’t expect you to feel bad about canceling on me for work At least not now.” I feigned a laugh. “We…this thing is just starting. We don’t even know where it’s going…if it’s going.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, we’ve only been on one date.”

  “Officially.” One date and it’s already causing problems. “Mon amour…”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I sighed.

  “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “I have got a list for you.”

  “A list?”

  “Yes.”

  “So I take it I’m now speaking with my boss?”

  “Exactly, Miss Townsend.”

  * * *

  phillippe

  * * *

  I looked out the window while processing the first part of my conversation with Gabriella. When I put her in the car last night, she was fine. If it hadn’t been for this crap with Seattle, I wouldn’t have sent her home when I did.

  Considering her confession about not trusting herself to be alone with me, maybe it was a good thing we ended the evening a little early. Maybe that’s why she sounded upset. It wasn’t my intention to end our date so early, but it couldn’t be helped.

  I’m not going to push her, but this is not the way to start a relationship. Maybe I should call her back. I picked up my phone and started to text her.

  “What’s up man?”

  I sighed staring at my phone. “I uhm…”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I laid my phone down, sipped my co
ffee and exhaled. “I’m not quite sure.”

  He sat down, poured a cup of coffee, looked at me, opened the top folder and asked, “How’s Gabby this morning?”

  “Why did you ask me that?”

  “Weren’t you with her last night?”

  “How did you…”

  “We’ve been friends a long time, and when you all but threatened to kill me if I disturbed you last night with anything less than death, I knew what that meant..”

  I smiled and shifted in my seat. “Was I that obvious?”

  “Yep. So how was your evening?”

  “Dinner was great.” I felt like a teenage boy replaying my date with the hottest girl in school. “We ate at the restaurant.”

  “Private room?”

  “Of course. Chef Paul really outdid himself last night.”

  “And?”

  “She was impressed.” I thought back to her reaction when she saw me enter the dining room with the plate of appetizers.

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “Last night, we…I mean…I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to be around her and not be privy to more.”

  “More?”

  “You know, more.”

  It took him a second and then he smiled. “So the snake wanted out of the box last night?”

  “In the worst way possible. You should have seen her. She had on this sexy black dress fitting every curve, and her parfum was everywhere. I wanted to cancel dinner and go straight to dessert, at my place.” I smiled.

  He nodded. “So what happened?”

  “You called.”

  “I’m sorry, but…”

  “I was angry you called and interrupted dinner, but at the same time, I was glad.” I got up and started pacing and wringing my hands. “I’m not sure if I can do this.”

 

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