Page 3 of Big Built Boss

I stand and take it, noting how soft her lithe hands are. As I reluctantly release her, I say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The last thing she says before she leaves the office is, “Looking forward to it.”

And I really was, too. Probably too much for how little I actually know about her. Still, for the rest of the night, I counted down to the moment I would see her again. That led me to this morning where I now stare down the clock as if it will get those hands to move.

Nine sharp.

That’s when she’s supposed to show up. It’s not like I’ve got anything to worry about. Josh will handle the paperwork, the same as he’s done with every new hire since he came on board. Olivia will settle in and probably spend most of her time in the office, and the gym will keep running smoothly.

So why am I so on edge?

It’s because of her. The way she smiled during our interview, her easy confidence—hell, even the way she tucked her hair behind her ear—it’s all still fresh in my head. And that’s dangerous. I’m her boss now. Whatever this...thing is, I need to shut it down before it even starts. Before it gets any stronger than it already is.

The door to my office creaks open, and Josh sticks his head in. “She’s here,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Want me to handle the intro?”

I nod, swallowing the knot in my throat. “Yeah, take care of it. Get her started on the paperwork and show her around. I’ll come out once she’s settled.”

Josh smirks, and it’s enough to make my jaw tighten. He doesn’t say anything, though, just gives me a thumbs-up and disappears.

I sit down, running a hand through my hair. This is fine. I’ll just keep my distance and let Josh break the ice. By the time I walk out there, I’ll be cool, composed, and professional.

That plan lasts all of five minutes.

When I step into the main gym, she’s standing by the front desk with Josh, holding a clipboard. She’s wearing a fitted blazer over a simple blouse, paired with slacks that somehow manage to look professional and infuriatingly flattering all at once. Her brown hair is pulled back today, revealing the curve of her neck, and I force myself to focus on something—anything—else.

Like the clipboard. That’s safe.

A few seconds later, she disappears into her new office, never having noticed me. I resolve not to bother her. There are plenty of things to do around here that don’t involve going into my new accountant’s office. And for a good few hours, I busy myself with those things, but eventually, I find myself drifting closer and closer until I’m standing outside of her door.

“How are things going?” I ask, after finally caving and stepping into the office where Olivia’s seated. She jumps slightly, her hand flying to her cheek, and I bite back a smirk.

“Good,” she says, her voice flustered, as she rubs at her flushed skin. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” I reply, though I’m not really sorry. Her reaction is kind of adorable, and I can’t help but feel amused. “You close to finishing up?”

“Yep,” she says, signing the last page of the paperwork. “Just got done with the last one.”

“Perfect.” I motion for her to stand. “Leave that there, and I’ll take care of it later. I want to show you around the gym real quick. Then I’ll get you into our system so you can get your bearings.”

“Sounds good,” she says as she rises, the chair scraping lightly against the floor.

She stops a step in front of me, and suddenly we’re standing closer than I realized. Too close. For a second, her gaze meets mine, and I catch the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. She looks at me like she’s seeing something she didn’t expect, and it’s impossible not to notice the subtle curve of her lips, the way her breath catches.

I clear my throat and break the moment. “Let’s go,” I say, turning toward the door.

As I lead the way, I hear her exhale sharply behind me, and I wonder if she felt it too—the tension, the unspoken thing crackling between us. Probably not. She’s just getting used to the place, and I’m reading into it because I need to get a grip. We move through the gym, and I point out the machines, explaining their functions.

“You probably won’t be doing much cleaning or demoing for guests,” I tell her, “but it’s good to know how everything works.”

She nods, her focus on me and then on the equipment, taking it all in like she’s already piecing things together. It’s impressive. Distracting, too, because every time I catch her nodding or tilting her head thoughtfully, I feel the pull to keep talking just to hold her attention.

When we finish the walkthrough, I ask if she has any questions. She shakes her head, her answer confident, and I motion for us to head back to the office.

“So,” I say as we step inside, “now that we’ve got the basics covered, I’ll log you into the system so you can get comfortable with it.”

“I’m sure that won’t take long.” Her voice is steady, though there’s a hint of playfulness in her tone. “I’m a pretty fast learner.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” I grin, sliding into the chair and pulling up the system.

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