Page 29 of Tempt the Boss

Of course, I would. Without even a second of hesitation.

“Okay,” I finally say. “If some miracle happens and he says we can date without it ruining my life and career, I’ll go out with him. But only under those conditions. I really do like him. A lot. If we can make it work, I want to.”

Darla smiles. “That’s my girl.”

We stay on the couch talking for a bit longer, but I should really be getting home.

“Thanks for being a friend, Darla. You’ve kind of gone above and beyond what an agent does today,” I say ruefully.

“No sweat sweetheart. Even if you weren’t my client, I’d still want to be your friend. You’re great, Ali. I’m always here for you,” she winks.

I wipe away one last tear and give her a big hug. “You’re the best. I’ll see you in two weeks when we learn my fate?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she says firmly. “And you’re gonna be fine, baby girl. Trust me.”

I hug her one last time before leaving the office. Normally, when I’m in the city, I like to walk around for a bit before heading home. But today, I feel so emotionally and physically drained that I decide against it. Instead, I head right to the train station and go home.

After exiting the station, I consider heading to my parents’ house, but I don’t want to worry them. I’m sure I look like a mess right now, which would give them a scare. Instead, I stop at the convenience store and pick up a pint of ice cream. Netflix is calling.

When I get home, I plan on flopping down on the couch with my laptop, ice cream, and a crappy movie. But when I open my laptop, my manuscript’s still there. Seeing it hurts for a second, and it takes me back to the scene today at Chris’s office. But then I read the paragraphs at issue, and I’m inspired to work on it. And with just a few tweaks, I’ve fixed the problem and made my story stronger. I throw my ice cream in the freezer and spend two hours working like a fiend on my book.

Chris and Jenny wanted more emotion, and they’re getting it. I channel all of my feelings from today into my manuscript. Without reading it through, I send the completed file to Darla for a go-over. I still feel stressed about what I did today, but knowing I got my rewrite to my agent on time helps me relax.

I pull the ice cream from the freezer and settle back onto the couch. The first movie on my recommended list is a romantic comedy I haven’t seen. I click play. I love a good rom-com. But this time, halfway through, my heart starts to hurt. The girl just left the guy for something stupid he did. And for the first time in my life, I actually empathize with the heroine. I had a love, and I lost him.

Before I know it, I’m crying again.

Chris looked so shattered when I spit lies in his face like it was nothing. It took a lot for him to open up to me about family, and to confess his love. And yet like some heartless monster, I stomped on his declaration like it meant nothing to me, even though it meant everything to me.

Darla’s right. I need to give him a chance.

I pull out my phone and carefully scroll through my contacts. Taking a deep breath, I type out a message to him. I’m sorry, Chris. I do care about you.

I hope he gets what I’m trying to say. That I want him to fight for us. That he needs to fight for us.

Suddenly, my phone pings.

Good to hear, he responds. And then nothing after that. Oh god, oh god, have I screwed up again? What does this mean?

I clutch my cell to my chest, hoping he cares about me enough to tell the board where they can shove their stupid dating rules. Because then maybe I can have my cake and eat it too.

The movie ends, but I don’t pay much attention to it. My mind is on Chris and the orgasm he gave me earlier, and the possibility of us being together sometime in the future.

Once the credits roll, I shut my laptop and get ready for bed. I fall asleep still thinking about the gorgeous alpha male. And in my dreams, we’re together. I’m a published author, and nothing stands in our way. We have a relationship that everyone knows about, and it doesn’t matter. I wish I could stay dreaming forever … but often, reality is much more harsh and inescapable.

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