Page 20 of Never Say Yes To Your Boss

“Please?” Heather begs. “Do it for me.”

Jesus. The poor girl has cancer. She’s wearing a headscarf because all her hair fell out from her treatments, and she probably feels like crap, which is why her sister is trying to cheer her up. How can I say no to that?

“I’m really not a good dancer,” I warn everyone. It’s not like it matters, though, since my protests fall on extra deaf ears.

“Here we go!” Heather yells, and there it is—an older pop song by some boy band that was extremely overplayed back in the day. My sister loved this song growing up. Unfortunately, I know it well.

I’m frozen, and I don’t know how to start. I know all the words, but how does one just launch into making a total assof themselves? This is not my regular routine. This is most definitely not in my wheelhouse.

Everleigh sidles up and grabs my hand, my good hand, and helps me pull her into her arms. My other hand comes up, and my arm might be useless and stiff today, but she makes it easy to guide her along. She’s belting out lyrics, and a deep rumble of a laugh works its way up. Even when she grabs my hands and tries to make me shake them, I don’t stop laughing. It only dies away when she turns around in my arms and wriggles her tight little bottom almost right against my front, totally innocently, making me pretty much swallow my tongue.

Boner control. Emergency boner control.I’m wearing my usual—slacks and a button-down. I don’t do office casual around the house. My jeans rarely make an appearance, and sweats or track pants or whatever just aren’t in my repertoire. The point is, they do little to hide my growing erection, so I try and make it part of the dance, dropping my hand in front of my crotch and angling away, which means turning to the screen and, yes, shaking my own bottom. It makes Everleigh erupt in a fit of giggles, which makes Heather follow, and damn it, it’s such a nice sound that it cancels out my nerves, embarrassment, and reluctance to keep dancing.

Ass forward, of course.

I’m so fucking glad Hans isn’t here to observe this. Then again, knowing him, he’s probably hiding somewhere in this room and recording the whole thing. For bribery or for a raise later. Kidding. It would be for more nefarious things than that. Perhaps something like this:

We’re getting pizza with vegetables on it because some parts of the pizza should be healthy, and don’t argue with me on that one. Oh, and I’m adding sardines. Just an FYI. Wait, what’s that? Protests? Remember that video…

The flutter in my chest tells me I’m enjoying this despite the unexpected erection debacle and the hearty amount of embarrassment that comes with being put on the spot when it comes to dancing along to and lip-syncing pop ballads. Actually, I might even be having fun. Fun, in this house, is basically a four-letter curse word.

After the song is over, Everleigh claps. She’s flushed, her hair is a wild, untamed mane of a mess from all the head banging earlier, and her eyes are still dancing, even though the music is over, too. From the tablet, Heather claps as well.

“Bravo, Darius,” she says. “You have some killer moves. You’re good-looking, you’re rich, and you’re a good sport. My sister won the lottery when she was half conned into a marriage of convenience with you.”

“Heather!”

“Oh no,” she exclaims, putting a hand to her mouth as she pretends to be shocked. “I’ve gone and said something scandalous.”

“No.” I walk to the doorway before I can get roped into another song. Also, I have a bit of a problem south of my beltline to keep trying to hide, and it’s not exactly easy. “Not scandalous. It’s not something we all don’t already know.”

“Still. Heather…”

“I’m sorry, Darius,” Heather says and laughs as I keep heading for the door. “Don’t leave because I’m rude!”

I angle my head around and give her a thumbs up while trying to keep my body facing the other direction. It’s not easy. I feel like a bit of an owl, except without the crazy range of motion they have with their necks. “You’re not rude. I’m just heading out to get back to work because things are more than piling up. Are you okay? How are your treatments?”

“I’ve just had one so far, but it was okay. Scary as heck for the first five minutes, but not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.I’ll keep you updated, but you can be sure I’m going to kick this shit’s ass.”

Everleigh does an owl trick of her own and turns her head so Heather can’t see the worry and pain on her face. It’s devastating for her that her little sister is sick. She feels helpless, I can tell. She’s the one who made the treatments possible, but she can’t do more than that. She can’t go inside her sister’s body and heal her or take her place. I make a note to pay whoever it takes to look into Heather’s treatment plan to make sure she really is getting the best of everything. Maybe there are other options or medications that she hasn’t been offered to combat the side effects. Anyway, I plan on finding out. I know good doctors and medical staff, thanks to my fucked up arm. They’re not in the same state, but they probably know people who know people who know people, and I’ll have answers soon.

“Thank you,” Everleigh mouths to me while blinking back tears. Louder now, so her sister can hear her this time, she says, “I’m sorry about the noise. I really didn’t mean to disturb you.” Then, she gets a saucy expression on her face that warns me some major sass is coming my way. “I’m surprised you didn’t send Hans up to spank me.”

“Who’s Hans?” Heather asks.

“His bodyguard,” Everleigh responds.

“My assistant,” I correct.

“His badass enforcer,” Eveleigh insists. “The guy who drugged me.”

Argh!“That was unfortunate!” I protest. “We’re all past that now.”

“Well, he did save you from drowning,” she cedes, handing me the point. Not that we’re keeping score. I hope.

“I see he’s good at multitasking, obviously.” Heather sighs in a way that I’ve learned her sister sometimes does when she’sgearing up to say something totally inappropriate. “He didn’t send Hans. He came up to spank you himself.”

Everleigh’s eyes go wide with surprise. “Heather!” She races over to the dresser and picks up the tablet, hiding her sister from me. She flops onto the bed, giggling to herself despite her reprimand.

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