Page 9 of Piercing Eyes

There’s only one person I want to bring, and she’s standing right here in my kitchen. Ever since she came back into my life,my feelings for her have been spiraling like crazy, demanding more attention every day. But I can’t ask her. It wouldn’t be appropriate—she works for me. The lines have to stay clear.

Except...it’s not actually a date. Just a work event.

“Would you come with me?”

She looks up from her phone, startled. “What?”

“To the fundraiser. Would you like to be my plus one?”

“I don’t understand.” Her fingers still on the screen.

“I think it’d be nice to have you there.” I keep my voice even, but my heart is pounding so goddamn hard, like I’m asking her on a date.

“As your assistant?”

“No.” I meet her eyes. “Just as you, Rory.”

Her cheeks flush pink. “It’s black tie. I don’t have anything to wear.”

“There’s plenty of time to shop. I know a great place that rents formal wear. I’ll give them a call, set everything up. You can pick whatever you want—it’s covered.”

She hesitates, working her bottom lip between her teeth. “If you really want me there, I can come.”

I want to tell her how badly I want it. How I’ve barely been able to think about anything but her. How I’ve pictured a thousand different ways to cross this line between us, consequences be damned. If she wasn’t my assistant, I’d confess it all in a heartbeat.

But all I can say to her is this: “I really want you there.”

Three weeks later, I’m knocking on Rory’s door, feeling giddier than I should for the evening ahead. When she answers, I’m rendered speechless. The long silky black dress she’s wearing fits her perfectly, hugging her thick hips like the silhouette was made for her. Her hair is pulled back in a low bun, and her lips are cherry-red with lipstick. But none of it is more beautiful than her eyes. Jesus, she’s gorgeous. I knew she’d look good, but this is almost more than I can take.

“You look amazing,” I croak out.

Rory smiles. “Thanks. You look nice, too.”

“I feel like I should’ve brought you a corsage or something.”

She laughs. “What, like it’s prom?”

We head toward the waiting car, our footsteps falling into rhythm. “Yeah. I never went to prom. At the time, I thought I was too cool for it. Looking back, I wish I’d gone.”

“I didn’t go, either.”

The car is waiting for us at the curb. I open the back door for her, and she slides in, the silk of her dress slipping over the leather seats. I get in beside her.

“You didn’t, huh?” I say. “Did you feel too cool for it, too?”

“No.” She smooths her dress over her knees, keeping her eyes down. “No one asked me.”

I feel a pang of guilt, as if it was all my fault. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“It’s okay. Really not a big deal, in the grand scheme of things.”

“Well, maybe tonight will sort of make up for it.”

She smiles, but then her eyes widen. “Wait, there’s dancing at this thing, isn’t there? Oh, God. I need to warn you that I’m a terrible dancer.”

I laugh. “Define terrible.”

“Terrible as in you’ll regret inviting me as your plus one.”

---