Page 2 of My Bossy Valentine

Clutching the device, I nod my head. “I don’t want to let my parents down, sir. Even if I have to play pretend, hire someone, or find someone as desperate as I am…” Biting the inside of my cheek, I groan inwardly. “I don’t have many options here. They’re renewing their vows, and I need a date yesterday. So, please, don’t mind me. I have another ten minutes of my break.” Shoulders sinking, I try to put my attention back on my phone.As soon as my thumb grazes the screen, he’s clearing his throat again.

His mouth presses into a firm line as I look his way once more. “This is why you requested the thirteenth and fourteenth off?”

Swallowing thickly, I nod. Expecting him to declare that he’s suddenly rejecting my request, I watch him drift over to his desk. As he settles in his seat, he sets his attention on his monitor.

“Delete the app, Miss Turner.” That authoritative tone makes my stomach tighten and my thighs rub together. “You won’t be needing it.”

“Sir?” Sitting up straighter, I feel my pulse inside my throat with my next swallow.

“I won’t have my assistant meeting up with a stranger, especially when you’ll be leaving town. If something were to happen to you–” He clears his throat and starts dragging his mouse. “–if I have to deal with the hassles of retraining another person, I may go mad.”

When I continue staring at him, mostly confused, he sighs through his nose.

“I will be joining you, Miss Turner. There is no point in continuing this hunt of yours.” Stating it matter-of-factly, his brows narrow. “End of discussion. Eat your lunch, I can smell that vinaigrette from here. When you’re finished, please reschedule my meetings for those days.”

“This is going to take up the entire weekend, sir. I couldn’t–”

“Willow.” Each time he utters my first name, it strikes a chord deep within me; he has no idea of its effect when he uses it. “End of discussion. Reschedule the flight while you are at it. We only fly first, you have my card on file.”

When Mr. Fletcher has his mind made up about something, he uses a certain tone. Perhaps the rich, smooth cadence ofhis voice or the undeniable power behind his words makes it impossible to put up a fight.

Is this really happening? Will my boss pretend to be my boyfriend for the entire weekend? How far will he act? Whenever he gets a job or task, he always does it with a one-hundred percent attitude.

As I do as I’m told, deleting the app and those similar to it off of my phone, I try my best to hide my smile.

Soon, I’ll be able to discover whether this is a dream come true or a curse in disguise.

2

Chris

“Sir–”

“Call me Chris.” I look at my cute assistant and watch her squirm in her seat. We’re only a few miles from her parent’s home, and she’s the most nervous I’ve ever seen. “If you want this to work, you’ll have to meet me halfway,Willow.”

I love saying her name. I love how her lips part, and her eyelashes flutter whenever it rolls off my tongue. If I didn’t think it would appear unprofessional, I’d say her name out loud as often as I can get away with it. Every time I needed something, it would always be Willow, this and Willow, that.

Her brown waves bounce as she nods her head. Never wearing it down like this, I’m fighting between staring at the road and counting each strand. Is it too early to start acting? I’d kill to reach over and pinch a couple just to see how soft they are.

Instead of caving to such a tempting thought, I focus on the empty fields surrounding us.

To think this woman considered bringing a random man here, one she’d meet over the internet. The thought alone is enough to bring a fiery heat to my chest. Like a red-hot iron grip around my lungs, letting her do something so careless and foolish would’ve eaten at me unless I did the right thing.

Now I’m here in a rental with one hell of a plan to act out.

“Chris.” She says my name slowly, testing out how it feels in her mouth. I’ve heard it possibly twice in the year she’s worked under me. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

She’s right. Hearing it in her tone of voice is making my jeans feel tight. I don’t wear them often enough, but I don’t think they’ve shrunk in size. No, it’s my cock thinking it can stiffen whenever it pleases.

Usually, I have a desk to hide how I feel about Willow. Now, I have to hold back a little. Wait until we have an audience before I can really play the part she wants me to.

“I told my mother all about you, sir.” She settles back in her seat, the habit of breaking out of her role is difficult for her to kick. “She’s very excited to meet you. I’m sure by this point, she probably thinks you’re as real as an imaginary friend.”

“Do I need to know anything to prepare? Any characteristics I’m not aware of?” My eyes glide over to her and I catch a light pink hue to her cheeks.

“No, none of that. Just act like yourself.” She chews on her bottom lip and doesn’t give me any other details.

Act like myself? As far as I’m concerned, I want her parents to like me. While I’m playing a part today, who knows who I’ll be to them in a few months or years? Maybe I want to be a real son-in-law. If I act like myself, they may come to dislike me. Most people do.

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