Page 37 of After Hours

Suddenly, as if from nowhere, I bumped into someone. My heart leaped, and I tried to run away, but strong hands steadied me. I looked up to find Mr. Xander there, standing tall and firm, his eyes locked onto mine.

“Shit,” I murmured. “Hi, Mr. Xander, nice to see you here.”

“I could say the same, and please, just call me Dillon.”

I was about to say something about keeping things professional but I didn’t, I just let it slide. “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” I said, indicating that I wanted to leave but he stopped me.

“Let’s go have a seat by the lake.”

“I think I sh—”

“I’m not going to hurt you, and I don’t bite.”

We stood there for about two minutes, in silence, before I decided to go sit with him.

“Happy now?” I asked him. He just smirked and continued staring at the lake.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked.

It was damn beautiful, but I couldn’t resist a bit of playful banter, and I teased, “Of course, but you know, it could use some improvement.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Really now? What kind of improvements are we talking about here?”

I chuckled, meeting his playful energy. “Well, for starters, I could use a more charming man for my company, don’t you think?”

Dillon grinned, his eyes holding a mischievous glint. “Ah, but you already have the most charming man sitting with you, don’t you?”

I tried to act nonchalant, but his compliment sent a pleasant warmth through me. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Xander.”

He leaned in a little closer, his tone dropping to a low, intimate register. “Does that mean I get extra points for being your boss?”

I could feel the flirtatious tension in the air. “Hmm, let’s see… extra points, but this isn’t professional.”

Dillon leaned back, feigning an expression of regret. “That’s the second or third time you’ve mentioned the word professional to me.”

“I wonder why,” I said sarcastically.

“Me too.”

“Are you oblivious?”

“Not really.” He really doesn’t know?

I scoffed. “You told me the conversation we had was a mistake and that we should keep things professional, so that’s what I did.”

“You apologized to me,” he argued.

“Because it was the right thing to do.”

“Was it?”

“Are you always this argumentative?”

“I am, but seriously, was it?”

“Maybe not, but still. I didn’t want you think I was some girl who goes to clubs on weekends and gets drunk and then goes up being all close with her boss and has very intimate conversations.”

He rolled his eyes. “Does it matter? At the end of the day, we’re still two human beings who are free to talk if we want to.”

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