Falling for His Boss

by Rosie Praks

  Well, at least little Johnny’s covered up, he thought.

  “Want to thank me, Darcy?” Whitney asked, gesturing for him to come closer to her.

  Darcy grinned and nodded. “Sure. What can I—ompf.”

  Darcy doubled over in pain when Whitney kneed little Johnny. And just in time for them to reach the ground floor, too. She took this opportunity to race out of the elevator. Darcy followed at a painful pace. But he still managed to chase her.

  “Whitney! Whitney!” He puffed after her, but she raced to the front desk first, reaching Harley before him.

  “Ah, Mrs. Hunter.” Harley’s beaming smile changed to a frown when she saw Whitney with a mad expression on her face. “Is something the matter?”

  “I’m not Mrs. Hunter, and he”—she pointed to Darcy—“is not Mr.—”

  “Whitney, is that you?”

  Whitney felt a chill run up her spine upon hearing that familiar voice. She turned around. Standing right in front of her was her ex-boyfriend from many years ago.

  “Johnathan!” Whitney exclaimed.

  She couldn’t believe after all these years, she would have the opportunity to see her ex-boyfriend again. Just a few days before their wedding, he had run out on her. Surveying him now, he still looked the same. Bleach-blond hair, slightly chubby in the stomach. What did she see in him before?

  “Whitney, it really is you. How are you? You look, wow, gorgeous,” Johnathan exclaimed, running his eyes up and down her body.

  Of course, after a night of vigorous sex with her assistant, who wouldn’t be glowing like a daisy?

  “I’m fine, Johnathan,” she said with a cold sting. She didn’t want to see her ex again. Not after all this time. The pain ran too deep. He was, after all, the first man she had ever loved. But she still felt that betrayal, the pain that clawed at her heart. Now she never trusted men. “So where’s Marylyn?”

  Whitney would have assumed the best friend’s sister would be hanging off his arm by now, but looking from left to right, that girl was nowhere to be found.

  “We broke up. It didn’t work out.”

  “Oh, well. Nice seeing you, then.” Whitney was about to turn back to Harley to explain her current issue with Darcy when Johnathan grasped her arm, turning her around to face him. She glared at him. “Johnathan. Let my arm go.”

  “We should, you know, catch up.”

  “I—”

  “Whitney!” Darcy’s shout was a welcome balm to Whitney’s irritable mood. And because he ran too fast, he ended up crashing into the pair, breaking their contact, which once again, Whitney was thankful for. “Did you tell them?” he puffed out, ignoring the dire tension between the two previous lovers. “Did you?”

  “Who’s this?” Johnathan eyed the younger man, who wasn’t wearing any pants.

  “Someone insignificant,” Whitney explained.

  “Johnathan?” Darcy exclaimed, an arm around Whitney’s waist.

  Whitney was red in the face.

  Johnathan, who saw the intimate interaction between the two, backed off slightly.

  “So this man is your boyfriend?” Johnathan asked with a hurt expression. Obviously, he still felt something for his ex-girlfriend.

  “Oh, no!” Harley who was observing the three decided to clarify everything. “Mr. Woods. This is Mr. and Mrs. Hunter. They’re husband and wife. They own this hotel.”

  At this comment, Whitney was gobsmacked, Darcy just grinned, and Johnathan couldn’t say another word.

  Chapter 12

  Whitney could count on one hand the number of times she’d been put in an embarrassing situation. The day Johnathan had broken up with her was one of them. But today, oh my fudge, today had to top it off. Two peachy spots had already formed on her cheeks.

  Obviously, Whitney couldn’t tell the poor girl off now. Harley was only doing her job, which was to break up the tense fight between the three participants. And she did an excellent job, too, because Johnathan had now backed off swiftly and disappeared after hearing that declaration. And Whitney herself was left standing there like a perpetual dork.

  She glared at Harley with an intimidating stare she hoped would frighten the young girl, but clearly Harley wasn’t the least bit affected. She only flashed a bright smile back at her.

  “Harley, how could—”

  Whitney couldn’t complete her sentence. Her mouth was clamped shut, and she was forcefully dragged to a secluded spot behind the large potted plant underneath the cooling vent again.

  “Go, Mr. Hunter. Go. I support you.” She could hear Harley cheering. “Don’t let any man flirt with your wife.”

  That girl. She must have a word with Hunter when he arrived tomorrow. And who the fudge was dragging her?

  “Let go! Let go!” Whitney couldn’t tolerate being manhandled. She stamped her foot so hard on her kidnapper’s foot that said kidnapper was now hoping on one leg.

  “Ow, Whitney, that freckin’ hurt,” Darcy yelled, clutching his poor foot. But when he saw Whitney making her way to the front desk again, he dragged her and pinned her to the large potted plant, once again, right underneath the cooling vent.

  “Darcy, why did you drag me here? It’s freckin’ freezing. Let me go.” When Darcy released her, she went into full outrage mode. “I can’t believe you did that. I still have unfinished business with Harley. Did you hear what she said? She announced we’re husband and wife—in front of Johnathan. She thinks we’re Hunter and Clarice, the owners of this hotel.”

  “I heard that,” Darcy answered honestly. “And good for her, too, since now we don’t have to waste money on separate rooms.”

  “Darcy, how many times must I remind that dull brain of yours that we can’t stay in the same room?” Whitney couldn’t tolerate her PA’s attitude anymore. She started poking his forehead. “I’m a woman. You got that? And you’re a man. And don’t say just because we accidently slept together last night, it qualifies you to share the same room as me.”

  “Well, I was going to say that.” Darcy nodded nimbly. “We suited each other perfectly. You’re the wife; I’m the husband. Pretending, of course.”

  “Darcy, you dork!” Whitney shook her head. Did her PA have a brain the size of a pea? “Just think about it. I’m your boss. Ethically speaking, it’s wrong. Plus, we don’t even get along.”

  Darcy hung his head shamefully, his mohawk hairstyle in a thousand and one directions.

  “But don’t you feel even a shred of pity for this little ducky?” he mumbled, eyes downcast Whitney couldn’t make out his facial expression.

  “Ducky? Who’s a ducky?” Whitney frowned at the sudden change of subject. Was he even listening to my explanation?

  “Me. Macy called me an adorable little ducky.” Darcy lifted his head, eyes sparking with mischief.

  Whitney burst out laughing. “You? Adorable little ducky? Oh my fudge. Why would she name you little ducky? You look like a giant swan to me.”

  “See, we do get along. You laughed at my joke.” He smiled. “And you even said I look like a swan. I must be hot in your eyes, right?”

  Whitney clamped her mouth shut and pulled her lips into a firm grim line.

  Now why did she even say he looked like a swan? But Darcy was right on one thing. He’d made her laugh. Which was miraculous, since most of the time she just kept a straight face or a grouchy one. But that wasn’t the point here. They had more important issues to deal with, not swans and jokes.

  Whitney knew they had more than twenty-four hours to get through before the real couple got here, and clearly, she couldn’t imagine herself staying with Darcy after what had transpired last night. Staying with him was just too tempting. Who knew sex could be this addicting?

  “So…” Darcy continued, interrupting her wayward thoughts. “Why don’t we share a room? I’ll make you laugh all the time. Then you’ll have laugh lines around your eyes.”

  The grim line on Whitney’s lips grew even firmer when she heard the word lines. “What
are you trying to say, Darcy, that I should have wrinkles? I’m not that old, you know.”

  “Well, you hardly laugh at work, Whitney. That’s why everyone is scared of you. Including me.”

  “That’s because you hardly do any work. And neither do the rest. And right now, I don’t want talk to you anymore. I’m going back to my room to get into proper clothes since you insist on stealing my coat.”

  “But… Whitney, wait for me,” Darcy nervously whimpered, following her lead as she walked back to their room. But Whitney was fast, suddenly sprinting off in the direction of the elevator, getting there before Darcy got to her.

  Whitney felt a bubble of laughter surging past her throat, and none too gently, she burst into a giggle unfit for a lady. She laughed and laughed when she saw Darcy waddling behind her like a penguin, clutching the coat, afraid little Johnny might take a peek from underneath.

  Serves him right! she thought when she got out of the elevator on her floor.

  She was still thinking about Darcy being a swan when she rounded a corner and bumped into a slab of meat. Or maybe she should rephrase that to bouncy belly.

  Whitney looked up and wanted to weep. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

  “Whitney! My God, I’m sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t see you.”

  Johnathan held his hand out, wanting to help Whitney up, but she gently brushed aside his hand, not wanting to touch him.

  “I’m fine, Johnathan. I’m fine.” She stood and dusted herself off.

  “You’re staying on this floor, too?” Johnathan asked all too eagerly, entering her personal space.

  “Yes,” she said unenthusiastically, not really wanting to converse with her ex.

  “So, umm, that man, your, um…” Johnathan sounded suspicious.

  “What man? My what?” She looked at him. “Spit it out. What is it?”

  “The one you were with, Mr. Hunter. He’s really the owner of this hotel? Wow, I wouldn’t have thought someone as young as him owned such a grand hotel. You’re lucky to have married him. When did you two marry? Is this your honeymoon?”

  Whitney rubbed her temple. If only Johnathan knew the real owner and the reason she was here.

  “I’m sorry, Johnathan. I have lots of things to unpack. You have a great stay here. Good—” Whitney paused midsentence, staring at those slimy, chubby fingers winding around her arm again. “Johnathan, let my arm go.”

  “Sorry, Whitney.” Johnathan grinned weakly. “I just want to chat with you before your husband gets here.”

  Whitney was seriously thinking of just quitting this whole trip and flying back to Auckland. Everything was getting convoluted. First accidently having a one-night stand with her PA, not to mention a delicious one, and now this, meeting her ex.

  “Okay, I’m all ears. Let’s have a chat now. What do you want?” she snapped.

  Johnathan staggered back a step at the sudden transformation. “Wow, you used to be so soft before. This is a real change. I guess women who’re married have more charisma.”

  “I guess so. Is that all you want to say?”

  “No. I was wondering if you want to catch up.”

  “Johnathan. That might be a bit hard. You see, I’m—

  ”

  “Sweetheart, there you are?” Darcy came barging into their conversation again. Whitney bounced her eyeballs to him, already leisurely winding his arm around her waist like a real husband would. “I told you to wait for me, sweetheart, but you have to run off. And you’re still talking to him.”

  “Darcy?” Whitney warned, a slight edge to her voice.

  “What? I’m jealous, sweetheart.” Turning to Johnathan, he said, “Are you interested in my wife? She’s taken, all right, mate? Go find someone else.” Darcy shooed Johnathan away like an unwanted fly.

  Poor Johnathan. Once again, he stepped out of the way and went back to his room.

  Darcy smirked. Oh, he did a good job, didn’t he? When he stepped out of the elevator and saw his boss conversing with that man, something inside him swelled up. He wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe pain or annoyance. But one thing he knew for sure was he needed to separate them. That guy was like a dog sniffing for food. And the food was his boss. Darcy didn’t like that idea at all.

  “Was I helpful, Whitney?” Darcy swirled around to find she had already walked away to their room. His shoulders sank. “Whitney. Wait up.”

  When she didn’t stop, Darcy trotted after her, only for the door to slam right in his face.

  Darcy inched open the door slowly, then poked his head in. He smiled, seeing his boss sitting on the edge of the bed, back straight, face fuming mad and lips pouting in anger.

  Somehow his boss looked hot when she pouted like that. Shaking that weird thought from his head, he approached her still body.

  “Whitney,” he called again when she didn’t respond. “Whitney, are you mad with me?”

  “For goodness sakes.” Whitney exploded, swirling around so fast it startled Darcy. “You’re just like a little kid, Darcy. Seriously.”

  He had to remember to breathe when he saw her fierce expression. But somehow, today, he wasn’t scared or intimidated by that look.

  Something must be wrong with him. He felt his chest. No. Nothing. He was still breathing. Yet his heart wasn’t thumping with fear like before. It seemed to thump in a different tune. One he wasn’t familiar with.

  “I’m sorry for what happened before. I thought to play a joke on you.”

  “Well, it’s no joke. I’m not even married, and suddenly I have a husband?”

  “We’re only pretending.” Darcy dragged a chair and deposited himself in front of her. He took her hands in both of his and looked her straight in the face. “Let’s talk.”

  Whitney didn’t feel like talking. She was sulking. And Darcy knew it. For once, she didn’t want to mix up her two personas, but somehow today—no, since her feet had touched Queenstown’s soil—her personas were tossed out the window.

  “Just think about it, Whitney,” Darcy explained, expression all serious. “We’re literally killing two birds with one stone. I seriously don’t have the money to pay for another room. Plus, that dude you spoke to, I know he likes you. A guy like me can tell. I’m a Casanova. I know how guys act. He was holding your hand, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did. Just like you are right now.” Whitney glared at him.

  And Darcy suddenly realized what he’d done. He dropped her hands like hot coal. He held his palms up in surrender. “Don’t worry about me, Whitney. I won’t fall in love with you. You’re my boss. And a mean one, too.”

  “I know that. I won’t fall in love with you either. Since you’re my PA and a lazy one, too.” Whitney couldn’t help tossing her retort.

  Darcy grinned, flashing his neatly orthodontic-straightened teeth. “I’m actually pretty smart. It’s just my brain gets lazy at work sometimes.”

  “Well, you better shape up when we get back. I don’t treat lazy staff lightly.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll work hard. But right now, let’s solve our problem. Leave work at work.”

  “So then, continue what you were saying.” She urged Darcy to continue with his explanation.

  “See. I have this niggling feeling Johnathan likes you.”

  “Yes. You’ve said that already. He’s a Casanova. Just like you. That’s the reason I won’t let you stay in the same room as me.”

  “Well, at least just pretend to be my wife. That way this dude won’t interfere in your stay here. I got the feeling you don’t like him much.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.”

  “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two. Maybe it happened way before I was born—”

  “Don’t be a jerk, Darcy. It was only a few years ago. I’m sure you were in high school then.”

  “Well, fine, but seriously, don’t you think by us pretending to be a couple, this dude won’t interfere in Hunter’s wedding. A guy like him, I’m sure without a kni
ght like me to protect you, he’ll hassle you to no end.” Darcy waited a few minutes, letting his words sink in. “So what will it be? Let’s pretend to be a couple just until the real couple gets back?”

  Why oh why didn’t Darcy study law? He was so well versed in convincing people to agree to his ideas.

  Whitney thought deeply into this suggestion, Darcy’s fingers grasping hers. She looked into his hazel eyes and felt her heart miss a beat. She shook her head and thought back to what he had said about not having enough money for another room.

  Is he genuinely poor? Darcy almost reminded her of Clarice, who was always in similar situations when she was younger.

  At the end, she sighed heavily. Her trip to Queenstown for her friend’s wedding was fast becoming a complicated mess she didn’t look forward to solving.

  “All right,” Whitney finally said. “But when the real couple gets here, we’re getting a divorce.

  Chapter 13

  It was only two hours into their role of husband and wife, but Darcy had to admit he was a pro at it. Who knew he could act so well? He’d never been married before, but for spectators who took a look at him and the woman beside him, they could immediately guess they were a couple in love.

  This morning, they had breakfast together. His boss had asked why they must eat together, but Darcy was only playing his role, explaining to his boss that Johnathan had eyes and ears, and if they didn’t act like a couple out in public, he couldn’t guarantee her safety if Johnathan were to come and annoy her. So Whitney had succumbed, allowing Darcy to share the same table.

  Darcy had never imagined there would come a time when he had the opportunity to share the same food as his boss, but life was all about taking advantages of unexpected and convoluted circumstances. And now, an hour after breakfast, they were both at the indoor pool, where an abundance of tourists were hanging out with cocktails in their hands, himself included. Not that he’d counted himself a tourist. He was a purebred Kiwi.