Dating the Boss

by Kate Swain

  “Amelia,” Carter said. His voice sounded tight, like he’d tasted lemon-juice. “You can stay. It’s not safe for you to be driving to and from work in the dark. Mark’s right. We need somebody up there. I’m just worried that—never mind. This probably is safer. No one will know you’re here.”

  I felt my cheeks heat up. Carter, who hated me, was saying yes? He’d let me stay? I cleared my throat. I didn’t know how to understand his sudden about-turn, or what to say. There was relief but also a sense of unease running through my veins. In any case, there was only one word that came straight to mind.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Sure.”

  Mark looked from Carter to me and back to Carter again. He shrugged.

  “I’m going back to work,” he said, and walked out of the door, the silence loud in the wake of his footsteps. I felt my heart stop. This was the first time I’d been really alone with Carter since Friday night.

  “I’m sorry,” Carter said awkwardly. “It’s fine if you stay. Mark can be a bit impulsive sometimes. I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I said in a small voice. I wasn’t sure what to say. On the one hand, I was hurt by his instant refusal. On the other hand, he was genuinely sorry. I never expected him to be able to admit he was wrong, not even about such a small thing as this.

  “If you need any help moving in, let us know,” he added.

  I stared at him, utterly confused. He was so swift to change his mind. I had thought he’d rather set the workshop on fire than rent to me, but now he seemed all too keen on me moving in. I paused. “Thanks,” I said carefully, “but I don’t own much. I can bring it over in one trip.”

  He held my gaze. I felt like he was trying to say something. An apology, perhaps. I could see tenderness in his expression as I stiffened.

  He shouldn’t feel sorry for me, I fumed.

  I wasn’t about to let him pity me, when he hadn’t even talked about our kiss! If he cared, the least he could do was say sorry.

  “Amelia, I’m sorry.”

  I stared at him. If he’d shouted, I would have expected it. If he’d told me to leave, I would have been mad at him, but I would have gone. But today he was full of surprises.

  “It’s fine,” I said again.

  “No,” Carter said as I shouldered past, “it isn’t. And, before you go, I have to ask you something.”

  “Yeah?” I frowned at him.

  “Did you see the creep again? That one…”

  “Luke Lowry? No.” I interrupted. I felt foolish. It was awkward that he knew about it, to say the least. He could have some compassion and not bring it up. I had told him because I’d been in a weakened state, not because I wanted everybody to know about it.

  “Oh. Sorry,” he said again.

  I gave him an odd look as I went past.

  “You’re not leaving?” he asked.

  “No?” I said. “I’m going out for lunch.”

  I had worked through lunch, and I was hungry. I was going to get something from the store. I had forwarded calls to my cell phone, so it wasn’t like I was leaving. I also needed to get some fresh air. So, I left the office and began walking to the store.

  “Carter Brand, you’re confusing.” I said it aloud to a lamppost in the parking lot.

  I had never met anybody in my life as confusing as him. Carter was sending out more signals than the creator of Morse code, but his were full of contradictions. On the one hand, he was clearly showing interest in me. On the other hand, he ignored me, marginalized me, and acted like he thought I was barely fit to be a receptionist at his company. Then, out of the blue, he acts like he cares.

  “I have no idea what’s up with him.”

  I bought bread rolls, cheese, and an apple and went back to my office. I worked through the afternoon. There was something strangely absorbing about updating ledgers and focusing on the numbers in the columns. It helped me to relax. Four hours passed like it was nothing. I stood, a little stiff and cramped, at seven and packed up the desk.

  “It’s time I went home.”

  “Have you added more jobs to the schedule for tomorrow?” Matthew asked from the doorway. He was dressed in his regular clothes. The guys were leaving too.

  “No,” I shot back. “It’s still just two jobs. Bye?”

  “Yeah, bye.” Matthew nodded. “We’re all leaving. Carter’s still here… said he’d lock up.” He jerked his head in the direction of the office next door.

  “Sounds good. Bye,” I said.

  I buttoned up my coat, frowning as Matthew went out.

  I thought I overheard Carter tell the team he was going to leave early while I was fetching paper for the printer from the storeroom earlier. What had made him decide to stay on later?

  “I don’t understand him,” I muttered.

  Getting into my car, I turned on the windshield wipers, wiping the raindrops and dirt that had dried on the surface. I stared out into the darkening night.

  “I’d better buy dinner.”

  I drove back, wondering what I was going to tell Tanya. The keys Mark had given me were in my bag.

  I could move out tomorrow, if I had to.

  “Tanya!” I called, striding into the kitchen. “I have good news. Oh. Hi.” I grinned as Tanya and Tex both looked up at me from the table.

  Tex stood up and shook my hand. Tanya just looked at us. I felt uneasy.

  “What’s up…” I started to ask, going to the sink to fetch myself a glass of water. I didn’t know why, but something about the fact that they’d fallen silent when I came in was uncomfortable.

  “Tell her, sweetie,” Tanya offered.

  Tex straightened his spine. He was tall, and he looked uncomfortable in our small, cramped apartment. Now, he looked dreadfully uncomfortable. I felt my heart thump nervously as he cleared his throat.

  “It was Carter’s idea,” he started. “He told me to keep an eye out for you.”

  I stared at him. “What was?” Of all the things I had thought to hear, any sentence starting with the word “Carter,” or suggesting him to be responsible for anything bad, was not one of them.

  “He asked Tex if he’d watch out for you,” Tanya finished, coming to stand protectively beside Tex. I would have been amused, seeing five-foot-eight Tanya protecting the six-foot-six Tex, but now was not the time for amusement. I looked up at him.

  “An eye out?” I inquired.

  Tex looked uncomfortable. He looked around at Tanya, who nodded. “He asked me to look for Luke Lowry.”

  I felt blood drain out of my face. The nerve! How dare he? I had confided in him, not expected him to blab my problems to the entire motorcycling community!

  “How dare he?” I asked.

  Tanya drew in a breath. “Now, Amelia… don’t be mad. Carter was just concerned about you.”

  “Concerned about me?” I shouted. I was hurt, seeing Tanya take his side made me feel betrayed by her. “He has a strange definition of concern! If he cared about my safety, why is he letting me stay there by myself?”

  “Stay where?”

  I stiffened. I hadn’t meant to tell her all in a rush, but I had raised the subject, and I might as well get it over with. “I can stay in the apartment above the repair-shop. Mark offered, and Carter agreed too.”

  “You’re moving in there?” Tanya asked. “Amelia… are you sure that’s safe? It is completely isolated out there. And I don’t want you to move,” she added with a grin. “I like you here.”

  I smiled. “Oh, Tanya.” I felt all my anger dissolve as swiftly as it developed. “I don’t want to move out either… I just need something to sleep on that’s more solid.” I gestured at the sofa, which was showing a distinct set of bumps and lumps from me sleeping on it.

  “I know,” Tanya grinned. “Well, if you need help moving in…”

  “I can take my stuff in my car,” I reminded her gently. Inside, I felt a little hurt at Tanya’s sudden agreement. I hadn’t said I was accep
ting his offer.

  “Again, I don’t want you to leave,” Tanya said warmly. “But if you want to go, I’m glad for you.”

  “I don’t know if I want to live there,” I said slowly. “I just…”

  “Do it,” Tex interrupted. “Amelia, it’s safe.”

  I frowned. “Tex,” I said cautiously. “It’s safe here. Tanya’s here,” I added, making a gesture in the direction of my friend, who nodded.

  “It’s not safe for you to go to and from work… or, at least, it’s much safer if you don’t need to go,” he said. “That way, you’ll have less time on your own.”

  “On my own?” I frowned at him. “I’m not on a hit-list, you know,” I said defensively. “I’m quite okay.”

  “Don’t be mad at him,” Tanya interjected. “He’s just worried for you.”

  I let out a weary breath. “Okay. I should be able to accept that. Thanks,” I said to Tex, suddenly feeling bad. I had been ungracious. “I appreciate it, everything really.”

  “No problem,” Tex said warmly. I felt myself soften to him. Whatever I might have thought about Carter’s informing him of my danger, I was glad he knew. If anybody could keep Luke from hurting me, I was sure he could.

  “Thanks, Tanya,” I added, smiling at my friend. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

  “I’m just leaving now,” Tex called, as I walked to the small bathroom that was attached to Tanya’s bathroom.

  “Bye, Tex,” I called around the doorframe. “Have a good evening.”

  “You, too,” he called back.

  When he’d gone, I sat down opposite Tanya.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to freak out. I was just stressed. And a bit hurt that everybody knows my problem.”

  “Carter didn’t tell anybody,” Tanya said firmly. “He only told Tex.”

  “Oh.” I felt better after hearing that. I shut my eyes, feeling drained. Relief, mixed with the tension of the day, had served to rob me of all my energy. I barely had the strength to keep my eyes open. “Well, I’m still pissed off at Carter,” I murmured.

  “I understand,” Tanya replied, and I heard her shut the cupboard door as she got out bowls for pasta, our regular Monday dinner. “He is a difficult one.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered back. “That’s an understatement.”

  “You’re right,” Tanya murmured back, and I heard the sound of forks and spoons being placed on the table. “He’s a real dickhead sometimes. Handsome, but a difficult guy.”

  “Yeah,” I said again.

  I closed my eyes and lay back on the couch, images of Carter playing through my mind. His anger as he looked at Mark, his contrition, facing me. His kindness.

  Was he really so difficult? Maybe I was misreading him. I had no idea. All I knew was that I was looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

  15

  Carter

  I woke up on Saturday with a nauseous feeling that wouldn’t go away. I didn’t know what it was until I thought that maybe it was because I had screwed up badly. I got up and went to the kitchen and poured some oatmeal into a bowl. It was the weekend. Normally this meant I’d relax and enjoy a leisurely breakfast, but today I felt distracted. I didn’t want to spend time sitting still.

  “I might as well go to work.”

  I checked my watch. It was almost ten o’clock. I felt the need to spend more time at work. I had been distracted all week and was behind on paperwork as well as parts orders and some of the repairs. I had nothing going on today, so why should I not spend it at work? It would do me some good.

  I tossed back the remains of my coffee and grinned. Who was I kidding? It had nothing to do with work, and I knew it. Today Amelia would be moving in upstairs. I wanted to be there in case she needed my help.

  “Own it, Carter,” I told my reflection as I entered the bathroom to shave. I might as well be clear to myself that my motives had nothing to do with being a good boss.

  I showered and dressed, then stared at myself in the mirror again. I was wearing good jeans, the same ones I’d worn on Friday because, well, they seemed to work pretty well that night, right? I added a white shirt and a light jacket to protect me from the increasingly cold air.

  When I drove up to work at eleven a.m., I felt my heart beating with excitement. Amelia’s car was outside. That meant she was moving in.

  I fought the urge to charge up the metal stairs to the second floor and ask if she needed anything. I shouldn’t force my attention on her. She was probably still mad with me—and rightfully so. I still couldn’t believe how I’d behaved towards her since we met.

  “Calm down,” I told myself firmly as I sat behind my desk. I had work to do.

  I worked steadily until one p.m. I stood, stretching, resisting the temptation to see her. It was killing me to not know what she was doing upstairs. I made myself walk straight out of the office and to the store to get lunch. When I got back, approaching the building, I could hear talking.

  “…and if you need anything, you call me, huh?”

  “Yes, Tanya. I promise. I’m only up the street,” Amelia’s voice protested lightly. “I’ll call if I need help. I promise.”

  “And if that guy gives you any shit, you call too. Promise me.”

  I could hear Amelia’s wry expression. “I promise.”

  “Okay. Bye! See you tomorrow! I won’t let you get away with not joining me for dinner at least once a week.”

  “Great! I wouldn’t miss it.”

  I flattened myself against the wall as Tanya walked down the path and around the corner of the building to the parking lot. High-heeled shoes clipped over the tar, and then a car door slammed. An engine started, and she pulled away.

  “Okay, Carter,” I steadied myself. “Just because Tanya’s left, doesn’t mean you have the right to just go storming up there.” I returned to work.

  Working proved harder than I could have imagined. I issued all the requests for payment, finished up and printed all outstanding invoices, and made sure we would have the parts we needed for the repairs and custom builds in the next few weeks. I was busy sweeping the hallway when I decided I couldn’t handle it anymore.

  “I’m going upstairs.”

  I marched up the metal staircase.

  “Hello?” I called through the white-painted door. I waited. Nobody answered and I started to feel a little silly. “She’s probably not there.”

  How likely was it that Amelia would have spent all morning moving in, and then still be in at four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon? I was being stupid to assume she’d stay here.

  “Hello?”

  The door shot open while I leaned against it. I fell forwards with surprise. Sprawling on the floor in the doorway, I cursed as my sore knee hit the threshold. Groaning, I got up into a kneeling position. Amelia looked down at me.

  “Carter. Are you okay?”

  The concern on her face almost, but not quite, served to hide the twinkle in her eye. She must have thought it was funny, and I had to agree with her. I felt my lips twist into a shamefaced smile. I had wanted to appear calm and collected, contrite and apologetic. Instead, I managed to fall down right in her doorway like a clumsy fool.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I think.”

  She caught my eye, and suddenly we both started laughing. I stayed where I was, back against the door, sitting on the top step. Amelia stood in the doorway.

  “I must have… looked funny,” I giggled, leaning back and closing my eyes.

  “It wasn’t funny, really,” Amelia countered, though I could hear a strained sound of laughter coming from her fitfully. “Actually, it was.”

  I looked up at her. She was grinning and really struggling to hold back her laughter.

  “Can I do something?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Well, that is funny. I came up here because I wanted to ask you if I could help you with anything.” I winced and got up. My knee hurt. I straightened my back, and it clicked some. “I thought
that since you’re moving in, you might need some help moving things around?”

  “Actually, no,” Amelia said lightly. “Thanks. We moved some of the furniture around earlier—Tanya helped with that.”

  “I see,” I said. I looked through the door and into the small apartment. Sunny and bright, it was actually a pretty nice apartment—even more so now with her in it. It smelled of strawberry shampoo. I liked it.

  “Can I invite you in?” Amelia asked. She sounded shy.

  I nodded, surprised that she had actually offered. “Thanks,” I said. “I don’t want to get in the way or bother you.”

  “You’re not.”

  We stood opposite each other in the doorway. Since the night in the bar, we hadn’t been so close. I could smell her and see the finer details of her eyes and face. I felt my body respond to her closeness. I cleared my throat. I had no idea what to do or to say.

  The silence stretched between us. Amelia shifted from one foot to the other. I looked away, not wanting to do or say something foolish.

  “I wanted to thank you,” Amelia said, “for agreeing to let me stay here.”

  I felt my heart drop into my boots. I had treated her badly, and I knew that. And now she was being so nice to me. I cleared my throat again.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I said. “I should have done more.”

  “You don’t have to.” Her voice was light and gentle.

  “I want to.”

  Her eyes held mine. I had that strange feeling that I was sinking into the brown depths of her beautiful eyes. I held my breath, not wanting to make a stupid move. She let her lips fall into a soft “o” shape. She frowned.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “It’s the least I can do,” I murmured. “Besides, maybe I can finish moving that cabinet?” I pointed my head toward the kitchen.

  “Which… oh!” she smiled at me with a sigh of relief. “Thanks… that thing is super heavy.”

  “It’s damn heavy,” I swore, pushing the thing with all my strength. I wondered why the hell we had furnished the place with such heavy furniture. Probably, I thought as I shoved the cabinet into the corner with all my strength, because they were the only things we could get at auction. “There,” I said.