The Boss' Desire (Her Perfect Man Contemporary Romance)

by Z. L. Arkadie

  “Nolan, sorry I’ve taken so long. It’s pretty busy for a Thursday night,” Chef Clark says. “So what do you have for me?”

  We tear our eyes off each other to look at the chef, who’s now wearing his work uniform.

  Nolan stands up with the files I’ve taken out of my briefcase. “Here’s the proposal. Abby here will be working on all the paperwork coming out of my office.”

  Chef Clark studies me with a smile. “That’s why I asked you to bring her. I need to look all my business associates in the eyes so when I call, you know to pick up the phone and hop to it.” He laughs as if that was a joke, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t.

  Chef Clark talks more about franchising the restaurant we’re sitting in. The chef is adamant about making sure the establishments remain high-end. I listen carefully to Nolan’s replies. It’s strange, but he has not yet made one promise. The pretty hostess steps up next to the chef and tells him that he’s needed in the kitchen.

  Chef Clark holds up the folders I put together for him. “Thanks for bringing this by. I’ll have my team read through them.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” Nolan says.

  Chef turns and leaves the table. Nolan sits back down and leans across the table. I’m hypnotized by his eyes.

  “And now we can have a drink,” Nolan says.

  It takes me a moment to snap out of my haze. “I’ll take a merlot.”

  Nolan cracks a smile. “Not quite cold enough for a bourbon, huh?”

  I smile. I love that he likes keeping our conversation light when we’re together like this. “Nope.”

  The waiter comes, and we order dinner. I ask for the sautéed scallops, and Nolan orders the swordfish.

  “So, Abby, tell me a little more about yourself,” Nolan asks while we wait.

  “Actually I was hoping you could tell me a little more about yourself.” I’m still not done learning about this gorgeous man’s life before the moment I spilled coffee on him.

  Nolan leans back in his chair and smiles. “Okay, what would you like to know?”

  I rub my hands together playfully. “Were you able to get your coat cleaned after I spilled coffee on it?”

  He smiles. “Yeah, I think it’s going to be just fine.”

  I exaggerate wiping my forehead. “Good.”

  Nolan chuckles. “What else would you like to know?”

  “What are the boundaries?”

  He narrows his eyes seductively. “There are none.”

  I think I forgot to breathe, and I have to take a few quick breaths to catch up. I’m still fascinated to know what kind of woman would divorce a man like Nolan Patrick.

  “Could you tell me more about why you got a divorce?”

  He shrugs nonchalantly. “It goes back to your Cinderella analogy. You know, the typical story. We were two people who got married too young. Each of us grew into ourselves more and more, and in so doing, we grew apart from one another.”

  I lean in closer. “Isn’t there a through-thick-and-thin clause in the marriage contract?”

  Nolan sighs, his posture crumbling a bit. “It isn’t written in black and white. It’s kind of like the projects that you work on, in a way. You start with this idea, and through the process, it changes. It has to change, because you learn new things. You adapt and work with what you have. Sometimes by the end of it, you like what you have, and sometimes you don't.”

  I nod. “Wow, Nolan, I think I get it.”

  Nolan sits up straight. “Good.” He leans toward me. “And by the way, you look great tonight.”

  I’m taken aback. “Thanks.” I simper as I take another drink of wine.

  “So how about you?” he says.

  “What about me?”

  “You must have a significant other.”

  “Actually, I don't.”

  “Why not?” He shoves his hands in my direction and lifts his eyebrows. “Look at you.”

  I blush, extremely flattered. “Well...”

  “Let me guess, it’s complicated.”

  I smile. “Yeah, you could say that.” No need to tell him that I pretty much lost interest in dating in the last three or so years, and I just don’t know why.

  “So how long have you not been seeing anyone?” he says.

  My eyes kind of roll upward.

  “Let me guess, it’s complicated too.”

  I look at Nolan and point at him. “Yes!” I say playfully, relieved that he's given me an out on two not-so-easy questions. “And how long have you been divorced?” The conversation is far more interesting if he’s the one answering questions.

  “We've been divorced for about nine months now.”

  “Oh, and you don't have any kids?”

  “No.”

  My eyes narrow. “Let me guess—you were too focused on your career?”

  “Actually, we both were.”

  “What does she do?”

  “The same thing that I do.”

  My body shifts. “Really? That must have been interesting.”

  “It has certainly made our split more complicated.”

  “I bet.”

  “Excuse me,” our server says.

  We sit back. I guess neither of us had noticed how close our faces were. The server places our food in front of us.

  We both enjoy our meals and talk more about some of the greatest spots in the city. Neither of us cares to order dessert. Mostly, I want to have another drink and see Nolan's place, though I doubt that the offer will arise.

  The food is on the house, so Nolan leaves the waiter a hundred-dollar tip. Gosh, he’s such a generous man. His ex-wife must regret the day she let him go. If I were her, I know I would. We make our way toward the exit. As we cross the restaurant, a well-dressed, attractive woman, who is speaking with the maître d’, looks at me and then focuses on Nolan. He stops walking behind me, so I stop walking too.

  The woman raises a finger to the maître d'. I read her lips as she says, “Wait a minute.”

  Suddenly she’s walking toward us, and I feel Nolan go rigid behind me.

  7

  Nolan,” the woman says.

  I step aside to keep her from running into me.

  Nolan’s expression loses the pleasantness that I worked so hard to put on it. “Kelsey.”

  I wonder who in the world this woman is. Perhaps she’s his girlfriend. He’s not married, but a good-looking man like him is bound to have some woman he screws on a regular basis.

  Kelsey strokes the side of her neck with her finger. “Funny meeting you here.”

  “It sure is.” Nolan looks at me, and her gaze follows. “Kelsey, Abby. Abby, Kelsey.”

  She continues with her forced smile, “Hi, Abby, you must be…”

  I finish the sentence for her. “Nolan's assistant.”

  “Oh, well, how nice of him to treat an employee to a meal.”

  My eyes widen as I look at Nolan. This chick must be the queen of taking sideways jabs. However, I’m no pushover.

  “And you are?” I say.

  “My ex-wife,” Nolan says.

  She looks at him. Her smile is even more forced than it was a second ago. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Nolan.” She turns toward the maître d'. “Excuse me?” She motions with her hand for him to come over.

  “Have a wonderful evening, Kelsey.” Jeez, Nolan sounds so sterile.

  Her overdriving smile is back. “You too, Nolan.” She looks at me. “Nice meeting you, Abby.”

  I don’t believe her. “Likewise,” I say, using my own brand of fakeness.

  Nolan is quiet as we walk back to his car. I hate that he’s lost all the pleasantness he had earlier. I guess that’s why Kelsey’s his ex-wife. She just sucked all the joviality out of him.

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Well, it sure got brisk this evening.”

  “I'm sorry if that was uncomfortable,” he says.

  “Oh no, I was referring to the weather.” I smile. “But the passive-aggressive ice queen b
lew some chill in the air too.” I make a squeamish face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to speak negatively about your ex-wife.”

  Nolan waves off my apology. “No need to apologize. She should’ve made a better impression on you.”

  I look up at him, and that soft look in his eyes has returned.

  “Well, at least she’s beautiful. I guess that’s something.”

  Nolan walks with me to the passenger side of his vehicle and opens my door. “I guess so.”

  I plant myself in the seat of the Range Rover. Nolan closes my door, and soon we’re on the road, heading back to the office with awkward silence between us. I notice I’m squirming a little in my seat. For a minute, I think it might be just me, but Nolan is looking a little restless too. I think about how I might make the first move. I've done it in the past. The only problem is, if I make the first move, I’ll be making the moves on my boss.

  So I close my eyes and fantasize about how good our first time would be. Nolan starts with the back of my head as he takes a handful of my hair and aggressively pulls my head back so my lips can meet his. I can feel his five o'clock shadow move across my jaw as he progresses with passion down my neck. His hand shifts, his fingers repositioning on the back of my head to turn it so that he can get a clear look at the side of my neck and the area directly behind my ear. He inhales deeply before advancing his lips around my ear, base of my neck, my hairline and toward my collarbone. His other hand firmly positions itself on my breast, pinching my nipple. I’m so wet that I can feel my drenched panties against the skin of my crotch.

  “We're almost there,” Nolan says.

  I snap back to reality. “Oh.” I try to conceal my disappointment. I wanted to finish that fantasy.

  Nolan glances at me. “I've really enjoyed my time with you tonight.”

  “Me too,” I say.

  His vehicle crawls to a stop next to mine. I look out across the parking lot with piles of snow pushed to the far corner. It looks like I feel—totally empty. All of a sudden, a chill runs down my spine. I look toward Nolan, and just like in my fantasy, he’s caressing the back of my ear. I panic for a minute. Is Nolan Patrick putting a move on me?

  “Abby, forgive me if I'm making you feel uncomfortable.”

  “No,” I say without hesitation.

  “I just…” He keeps petting my ear, sending tingling sensations through the insides of my thighs.

  “What?” I say breathlessly.

  “It’s just that I find it hard to resist you. Believe me, I’ve been trying, but it’s just so damn hard.”

  My head’s spinning. Our lips are so close.

  “Oh…” I say.

  “I'd really like to kiss you,” he says.

  I’m entranced by his nearness. “You would?”

  “I would, and I'm going to.”

  I exhale. The warmth of his breath moves from my mouth to the base of my neck, around my collarbone, and back up to my lips. He uses his grip on the back of my head to press my lips to his. Locked together, I feel the passion move from my tongue into my chest, down through my stomach, and into my groin.

  With a powerful release, Nolan separates his mouth from mine. “Abby, I can't… I mean, I shouldn't.”

  “Okay.” I'm breathing heavily and confused about what just happened.

  Nolan squeezes his eyes shut as he massages his temples. “You’re my assistant.”

  He's afraid to break the rules. I figured as much.

  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll go,” I say. I sound so sad. I think I’m a little heartbroken.

  Nolan doesn’t even look at me as he nods. I open the door, but he rushes out of the car to help me step out of his SUV. We’re standing face to face, and I realize I’ve already become addicted to the smell of his breath.

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say. Those words barely come out.

  He moves his face away from mine. “Have a good night, Abby.” His voice is firm.

  My posture deflates as I walk to my car. My throat constricts, and my eyes are watery. Nolan waits to make sure that my car starts, but I avoid looking at him as I pull out of the parking lot. I drive home, watching the road through my tears.

  8

  Is it too late to pinch myself to see if I dreamt last night? Last night, my sexy boss kissed me in the parking lot. The foreplay that led to the most passionate kiss of my life was surreal. I can still taste him and feel his five o’clock shadow against my cheek. But he was right to stop when he did. I’m his assistant. We shouldn’t engage in any sort of behavior that will complicate that relationship.

  I stop in front of the mirror on my way out. I bought these equestrian-style stretch pants while on a shopping trip in Manhattan last year. They’re pretty fitted, showing off my assets.

  I finally get enough of studying myself and determining how much I’ll appeal to Nolan. I shake my head. This is so pathetic. I grab my black winter coat out of the closet and my purse.

  Last night, while I lay in bed dreaming of Nolan, the city experienced light snowfall. I look out the front window at the driveway. The neighbor kid must’ve gotten up early this morning to shovel the snow. I look at the floor in front of the door and see that he dropped an invoice through the mail slot. He normally waits until the end of the month to distribute invoices, but Christmas is in less than three weeks. I’m sure he wants spending money.

  I take a moment to open the invoice. It says that I owe one hundred dollars. I search the page for the kid’s name. It’s Ethan Crawley. I put his name in my memory bank.

  Despite the cold nights, my car has been purring perfectly ever since Nolan’s mechanic fixed it, so my drive to work is smooth. I practice how I’ll say good morning to Nolan. Maybe I should wait for him to speak first. But I’m the assistant. I should greet him first. Maybe he’ll ask me into his office and apologize for kissing me. He’ll blame it on the bourbon he had with his dinner, and I’ll blame the merlot for the fact that I let him kiss me .

  I shake my head. The kiss. The kiss. The kiss. I have to refocus my thoughts, so I think about checking Nolan’s email and putting his calendar together for the next few weeks.

  I make it to the lot and park my car in the first space I see. I can’t keep myself from searching the lines of cars, but I don’t find what I’m looking for. Nolan hasn’t made it in yet. That gives me time to make a cup of coffee for myself and plan out our morning sit-down.

  As soon as I’m in the building, the warm air hugs me. Operations finally fixed the heater, so now we don’t have wait until noon for the building to warm up. I take off my coat, hang it on the back of my chair, and head to the break room.

  “Oh my goodness, Abby, your pants are really cute,” Misty says as she passes me in the hallway.

  “Thank you,” I say and continue on.

  She follows me. Misty wants to talk, but I have a lot to do before Nolan gets in.

  “So how was dinner with Nolan?” she asks.

  I increase my pace, but she’s on my heels. “It wasn’t a date. It was work.”

  “Oh, Abby, if you think him asking you to a restaurant to meet a client was only about work, then you’re more clueless than I thought.”

  I reach the break room and head to the coffee maker. “Think what you must.”

  She leans on the doorjamb and folds her arms. “Just watch it, because Nolan can be a heartbreaker.”

  I pretend as if her warning didn’t shake me. “He’s just my boss, and I’m his assistant.”

  Her eyes roll up and down my body and stop on my face. “Right.”

  I roll my eyes. She’s really irking me. Someone else has made coffee, so I get myself a paper cup. “Misty, don’t you have an important job or something?”

  “Abby, don’t get upset that I’m looking out for you.”

  I slam the cup under the coffee spout. “I’m upset because you’re assuming a lot.”

  “Look at you. You’ve changed everything about yourself since he got here.”

/>   I tilt my head curiously. “I remember the first day he arrived. You were coming on to him pretty strongly.”

  “Don’t attack me, Abby.”

  I glance at Misty; her face has turned red. I’ve hit the nerve she was trying to hide.

  I take two vanilla creamers. “Listen, I don’t care about your intentions with Nolan.” That’s a lie. “Do what you want. I mean, okay, I started dressing better.” I take a plastic stick and stir my coffee. “But it has nothing to do with Nolan and everything to do with me.” That’s another lie.

  Misty studies me with one eye narrowed. She sighs. “Well, that’s a relief. Because he’s quite the ladies’ man.”

  I take a casual sip of my coffee. “And you know this how?”

  “He’s dated a couple of women in the Chicago office and broke their hearts.” Misty checks over her shoulder and walks closer to me. “He’s only good for a fast fuck,” she whispers.

  “Is that what you want from him?” I ask.

  She shrugs one shoulder. “Not anymore. I’m dating someone.”

  I can tell she’s waiting for me to ask who, but I won’t ask. I’m done with this conversation. I take a sip of my coffee and start toward the door. “Got a lot of work today. Congratulations on your new relationship.”

  I turn the corner and head back to my cubicle, ignoring the fact that Misty just shattered my hopes. Now the reason why Nolan stopped himself last night makes sense. His ex-wife seemed kind of on edge. He must’ve cheated on her. Perhaps he’s a scoundrel.

  I sit at my desk and go through his email. Speaking of the devil, I see a message from his ex-wife. She’s asking to meet with him next Friday to discuss some of their property issues. I wonder what issues are those. I also wonder if when they meet, they’ll punctuate the encounter by having sex.

  I dismiss my baseless jealousy and get back to work. Nolan keeps me busier than Liza did. I call our biggest clients and resolve their issues. I go from explaining verbiage on contracts to scheduling inspections on potential property acquisitions. By noon, Nolan still isn’t in the office. I’m just about to go to lunch when my line rings. I consider letting it go to voicemail, but instead, I answer it.