A One Night Affair (Kissing the Boss Book 2)

by Fionn Jameson

I was too tired, too rattled to be appalled at my words.

  Even when I hated his guts, I never spoke to him like that.

  But I don’t think I cared.

  I almost wanted to tell him that I had accepted a date from Julian, but I was sure that wouldn’t get me more than a caustic gaze.

  After all, Nobuki was the one who told Julian to ask me out.

  His eyes narrowed, and I swallowed a sudden lump of trepidation rising in my throat.

  Crap. Maybe I’d pissed him off.

  His delicate nostrils flared as he drew in a breath.

  Meanwhile, I was steeling myself for a quick, rather opportune visit to the ladies’ room again.

  “You haven’t smiled once since you came back from the restrooms,” he said after waving goodbye to the lady with the frizzy-haired friend.

  Damn. Why did he have to be insightful enough to catch that?

  “I’m fine,” I muttered and smiled. “See? I’m smiling. Aren’t you glad?”

  He sighed. “It’s almost five. Why don’t you go? I’ll clean up.”

  I wanted nothing more than to get away, but my pride would not let me go back to the hotel without finishing the rest of the day. “No. Like you said, it’s almost five. I’d like to stay.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it with a shrug. “Have it your way.”

  All the while, Nobuki watched me, face set in that pleasant mask he had shown everyone else today.

  But I knew it for what it really was.

  A mask. He was displeased with me, but wouldn’t risk telling me off in a very public venue. But later, who knew what words would spill from his lips?

  “I’m tired,” I admitted. “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “This is my job, as a representative of Shokogan and as your assistant. Please don’t ask me to leave.”

  “As you wish. But you’ve been little help today and I’ll chalk that up to your tiredness. I’d like to, anyway.”

  As always, so polite and yet so cold at the same time.

  I took another deep breath, aware of how quickly the convention room was starting to empty out as the clock read five minutes to five in the afternoon.

  “Mr. Miyano, do you remember the day we first met?”

  He tilted his head to one side. “When you called security on me?”

  I was too tired to feel the usual rush of shame regarding that situation. “Remember what I said?”

  “Almost word for word. It was an interesting conversation.”

  I sat down on a stack of boxes and almost slipped through them when I realized they were all empty.

  I decided to perch on the edge of a rather wobbly plastic table. “May I be honest with you?”

  He crossed his arms. “I welcome it.”

  “Mr. Miyano, you’re a very attractive individual,” I said baldly, wondering what kind of reaction I was going to get.

  I hadn’t expected a blank face.

  Or the lack of a response.

  So we stood there—well, I sat there and he stood in front of me, arms crossed.

  In silence.

  Did I mention how awkward it was?

  “Um,” I said, just to fill in the silence. “Mr. Miyano?”

  He blinked at me.

  I sighed.

  “Mr. Miyano, with all due respect, most of the people who’ve come to us aren’t here because they’re interested in our company and our vision. Do you know why most of them aren’t interested in me? It’s because I’m not you. Beauty sells and I’m afraid that’s why we’ve gotten as much interest as we did. Because of you. I could’ve been a chimp wearing a hat and playing Beethoven on a toy piano and you would’ve still gotten more interest than me.” I tried not to sound bitter. “Everyone loves pretty things.”

  Nobuki’s gaze was intent on me and I struggled not to fidget. “So it doesn’t matter whether I look like a wreck. No one cares about me anyway.”

  I definitely sounded bitter now.

  “Miss Hasegawa?”

  “Yes?”

  He smirked.

  Smirked.

  “Why do you think the CEO sent me?”

  My jaw fell off and swam all the way back to Japan.

  “I already know the deal, Miss Hasegawa.” His voice was no longer placid. Every syllable dripped with derision, and with every word I fought the urge to shrink in on myself. “I know why they’re here. I know why most of them are talking to me and look through you. I’m not an idiot.”

  I opened my mouth. “I didn’t—”

  “If my face sells our company, then I’ll do it. That is the job I was hired to do, so that’s what I’m doing. Do you understand me now?”

  What could I say? Nothing.

  His words were harsh, but that wasn’t a surprise.

  “Whoa, what’s with this thick atmosphere?”

  A few booths away, Julian hastened toward us, his eyes narrowed.

  “It’s okay, Julian,” I said, not willing to let this escalate. “We were just talking. Right, Mr. Miyano?”

  Julian stared at Nobuki. “Why does Rika look so lifeless? Were you yelling at her?”

  “I haven’t the faintest.” Nobuki’s gaze never strayed from me. “I would never do something as uncouth as yell at an employee in a public area.”

  Julian grabbed a half-filled box and began to fill it with samples. “Yeah, well, I don’t know that. Look at her, she looks half dead.”

  “Perhaps you ought to let me worry about her, Julian.”

  Quickly, I taped up one full box and moved on to the next one, keeping my head down, my eyes on the seams of the boxes, because I didn’t want to know what was going through Nobuki’s head.

  Was he looking at me with disgust?

  Ignorance is bliss.

  With Julian’s help, we closed up the booth in less than fifteen minutes, faster than I thought, but I was grateful for the speed. I could feel my energy level falling dangerously low and I had no intention of letting Nobuki know just how terrible I felt.

  Wordlessly, I held up the light blue canvas to cover up the entrance of the booth and Nobuki zipped it shut.

  All three of us took a step back to take one final look at the zipped up booth and then I took another step back, bowing so low my hair brushed the floor.

  “Thank you for working so hard,” I said, just like a good employee. “I think I’ll go and rest.”

  Nobuki sounded almost bored. “Please do so.”

  “Rika, wait a—” began Julian, but I was five seconds away from passing out on the floor.

  “Thank you for helping us!” My voice echoed in the mostly empty convention hall.

  We Japanese can do polite like no one’s business and I was Japanese to the core.

  “Rika, wait, don’t—”

  Too late.

  I grabbed my bag and got out of there.

  Chapter 5

  I didn’t think it was possible to cry from sheer exhaustion.

  It was.

  Alarming four other people who gawked at me in the elevator as I started sniffling in the corner, I got out a few floors short and walked up the emergency stairs.

  Bag hanging from one hand, I emerged on my floor, dabbing at my swollen eyes with a damp napkin.

  Someone stood by my room.

  It was Julian.

  Ignoring the pang of disappointment that it wasn’t Nobuki, I paused, unsure of my next move.

  Julian hadn’t seen me. His head was down, and he was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets.

  I didn’t want him to see me like this.

  I didn’t want his pity, didn’t want his consolation.

  I just wanted to be alone and maybe even cry myself to sleep.

  I hadn’t wept like this since I was in grade school. Surely I was way overdue for a good cry.

  But I couldn’t do it if Julian was around.

  Slowly, I attempted to sidle back to the elevators.

>   Julian chose that moment to look up and his gaze focused on me.

  “Hey.” He smiled.

  It was soft, gentle, the kind of smile Prince Charming would give to his beloved princess.

  Why can’t Nobuki ever look at me like that?

  “Hi,” I hiccupped.

  He pushed off the wall, hands still in his pockets. “Sorry if I just showed up. I was worried about you.”

  I was glad for the relatively dim lighting in the hallway. If he saw my swollen eyes and started being even nicer, I didn’t think I could stand it. “You’re a nice person, Julian.”

  Why can’t Nobuki be more like you?

  But I couldn’t bring myself to ask that.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Tired,” I replied. “But I’m sure you know that already.”

  “No way. You look as fresh as a spring daisy,” he said with a straight face.

  I felt a smile tug at my lips. “I should get cleaned up. I look like hell.”

  He stared at the tissue clenched in my hand and then his gaze swiveled to my face.

  To my eyes.

  “You’ve been crying.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “I think it’s just the stress.” The smile wobbled on my lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever worked this hard.”

  He tsked under his breath. “Anyone ever tell you that you suck at lying?”

  I looked away, unable to meet his earnest gaze anymore. “I’m…”

  “Hey.”

  His hand was on my chin, tilting my face up so he could look down at me.

  “I’m okay,” I whispered, unable to call up the will to pull away from him.

  This close to him, to the warmth emanating from him in waves, I felt the nigh-irresistible urge to bask in that heat.

  After dealing with the avalanche otherwise known as Nobuki Miyano, all I wanted was to sit next to Julian’s fire and let him warm me from the inside out.

  “You’re not okay.” His gaze searched my face. “Christ, look at your face. What happened?”

  Heat rose in the back of my nose. “Nothing. I’m okay.”

  His lips pressed into a thin line. “I saw you with Nobu. You looked upset.” He made a small sound in the back of his throat. “He’s such an asshole. How could he treat you like this? You’re crying because of him, aren’t you?”

  I sniffed. Crap.

  “The longer we talk about this, the worse I feel. Can we please just talk about something else?” I managed to whisper, moisture coming back to my eyes, no matter how badly I wished the tears away.

  Julian made a sound low in his throat. “Rika, don’t.”

  I sniffled again and my vision blurred.

  Uh-oh.

  No going back.

  “I wish he could be more like you,” I choked out as tears spilled down my cheeks. “Why is he so cold? I wish…I wish I didn’t feel…”

  I thought I couldn’t cry like this anymore.

  God, this was painful.

  Julian brushed his thumbs across my cheeks, pushing the tears away. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry like that.”

  His words made the tears come faster, harder.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to see me like this.” I put my hands on his chest, trying to get some space between us.

  His kindness, his gentleness was pulling at the strings around my heart, making me feel things I shouldn’t even be thinking about.

  One large hand circled the back of my head, and he put his other arm around my shoulder, pressing me against him.

  And I couldn’t fight it.

  No.

  I didn’t want to fight it.

  Without even thinking about it, I put my arms under his, fingers clenched deep into his shirt, and cried.

  I cried because I was tired.

  Tired of everything.

  My tears wet his shoulder in seconds, and I was babbling uncontrollably.

  “He hates me,” I muttered, nails digging into Julian’s shirt. “He thinks I’m an idiot and doesn’t respect me. And yet…”

  “Hush,” said Julian, smoothing down my hair. “It’ll be okay.” His voice rumbled through me. “He doesn’t hate you. Didn’t I tell you before? If he hated you, he wouldn’t have said anything to you. In his own way, he does care for you.” He paused. “I’m a little jealous of him.”

  “And I still think you’re being too nice,” I muttered against his warm chest.

  “Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

  Being so close to Julian didn’t feel strange. I was warm, comforted. I hadn’t felt like this since…I couldn’t even remember when.

  So when I had the chance to step back, regain my composure, I didn’t.

  I liked being held.

  “I think I’m okay now,” I said, face still pressed against his shirt.

  “Really?” He sighed heavily. “Well, that was over fast. I was enjoying this.”

  Embarrassed, I tried to break free, but his arms kept me firmly in place.

  He grinned. “Just kidding.”

  “That isn’t funny.” I frowned.

  “No?” He winked and I relaxed just a bit. “But guess what, Rika?”

  “What?” I said, still peeved.

  His smile widened. “You’re not crying anymore.”

  He was right.

  I sniffed and swiped at my nose. “I’m a little embarrassed now.”

  He nodded in a satisfied air. “Embarrassment isn’t so bad. We’re human, after all.”

  He let me go.

  I ignored the pang of regret as his warmth slowly seeped away from my body. “Crying is such a waste of energy and moisture.”

  “Agreed,” said Julian. “Don’t waste your tears on Nobu. Be indignant he doesn’t treat you with the respect you deserve. But no tears. Don’t cry over that bastard.”

  He said that in a strangely intense voice that made my heart skip a beat.

  Once again, I was plagued by the same thought that had gone through my head constantly in the last fifteen minutes.

  Why couldn’t Nobuki be like Julian?

  More importantly, why didn’t I burn for Julian?

  Maybe it was true that women had a fondness for bad boys, in hopes they could change the man into their dream lover.

  But Nobuki wasn’t a bad boy, per se, just a cold-hearted bastard.

  “Have you eaten?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not yet. I was going to grab something quick before tonight but you look pretty done in. Maybe we should reschedule.”

  No way. Maybe this was just the thing to take the blues away. “No. Tonight is good. I can make it. How about I meet you in the lobby at six thirty?”

  He eyed me uncertainly. “You sure?”

  I smiled. “I’m sure.”

  The corners of his blue eyes crinkled as he made a small salute. “Okay. Hey, Rika?”

  I turned at my door, card already in the slot. “Yes?”

  His eyes narrowed. “He’s not worth it.”

  My throat tightened. “I know.”

  He nodded once. “Good.”

  My smile faded as I let myself in and closed the door on Julian’s grim visage.

  He’s not worth it.

  I know.

  I knew it all along.

  Nobuki was an ass, and compared to Julian, he seemed even worse.

  And now Julian, the nicest guy I had met in a while, was interested in me.

  I’d give him a try.

  I’d definitely give him a try.

  After all, what did I have to lose?

  Chapter 6

  I patted my swollen face with a wet washcloth and applied a new layer of concealer on the dark circles underneath my eyes, praying the relative darkness in the hotel lounge would hide my too-liberal use of the concealer to be less…obvious.

  Crap, I looked like what hell frozen over would look on a bad day. But then again, what was I supposed to expect? The last half hour had consisted of me sobbing
like a distraught grade school kid.

  I struggled out of my work clothes, professional to the max, and stared at the contents of my wardrobe that I had stuck into the closet with the strange hangers that were supposed to prevent people from stealing them.

  I pulled out a pale green tank top that was perfect for the balmy weather outside and coupled that with a pair of skinny black jeans that did wonders for my totally curveless backside. I had no idea what to expect, so I threw on a plain black cardigan with the knowledge that a soft black cardigan could fit in just about everywhere, and after staring at my selection of shoes, settled on a pair of comfortable sneakers.

  Trying to do something with my wayward hair, I ran smack-dab into my boss, who was also leaving his hotel room.

  Memories of the past hour, the words exchanged between the two of us, whispered through my mind, and even though all I wanted to do was walk straight past him, chin up in the air, it was hard to do so when he stood in my way, tucking the card key into his wallet.

  “Good evening,” I said coolly, following him to the elevators because I could do normal like everyone else. I would show him that our exchange in the convention hall meant nothing to me, that I didn’t need to grovel for his approval.

  “Hmm,” he replied, because my boss was an arrogant jerk. “Going somewhere for dinner?”

  “Yes.” I pressed the down button and wished the elevators weren’t all going up. “I have plans.”

  He made a small sound in the back of his throat. “I see. I was under the impression you would be dining in your room tonight. Room service is allowed, you know.”

  I looked at him sideways. “And why would you come to that conclusion?”

  He shrugged, looking put together and amazing in a plain white button-down shirt tucked into a pair of pressed dark khakis with shining dress shoes. Was this his idea of casual?

  Suddenly, I felt downright dowdy in my beat-up red high-top Converse All Stars.

  “You looked beat. I didn’t think you wanted to be social.”

  “Not quite.” My voice bordered on subzero. “I think I deserve a night out.”

  What was taking the elevators so long?

  I glared at the electronic display over the doors showing the number seventeen and currently on its way down.

  “Perhaps I should’ve been a little less harsh,” he said after a moment of nail-biting silence while I wished I had taken the stairs.