Page 24 of Like a Boss

He smiles, guiding my hips to continue moving to the music. “You’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

“No, I’m not…” But this is too soon. I squash down the inner voice which is screaming at me that it wasn’t too soon to sleep with your boss.

“Hannah told me you broke up with your ex-boyfriend months ago.” His heavy breathing gusting against my neck is suddenly making me itchy.

“I did, but…”

“But I’d really like to get to know you better. No pressure, of course.” He leans in close, his lips pressing against my cheek.

I feel like I’m suffocating, and his heavy-handed cologne suddenly makes me gag. I pull away so quickly, I’m certain I’ve given myself whiplash. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the restroom,” I explain when he looks at me, baffled.

“Oh. I’ll come with you.” When he attempts to slip his hand into mine, I shrug away and out of his hold.

“It’s okay. I won’t be long.”

He reads my brush off loud and clear, but smiles.

Pushing my way through the sweaty, gyrating bodies is quite a mission, and when I finally break through, I breathe out a sigh of relief. After the awkward PDA, I need a drink, but the bar is crammed full with a line of thirsty patrons. Not wanting to make a liar out of myself, I decide to hit the restroom and then sober up with a few gallons of water.

It’s so impossibly loud in here; my ringing ears thank me when I reach the restrooms. Of course, the line is a mile long, but I happily wait as I need a breather from Ken and his getting-to-know-me speech. He’s known me for all of five seconds. Why is he asking me out? His forwardness has just confirmed that I’m not interested in dating any time soon.

However, I didn’t have any qualms about having sex with a complete stranger. What does that say about my morality?

My bag vibrates against my leg, so I open it up, thankful for the distraction. I search for my phone, in beliefs it’s Hannah,asking where I’ve gone. I gag on my tongue when I see who the text message is from.

Are you having a pleasant evening?

That single phrase sends my senses into overdrive. Why is Mr. Fox texting me?

I stare at the screen, unsure of how to respond.

I am, thank you. I’ll have the notes you requested for Monday’s 9 a.m. meeting on your desk by 7:45 a.m.

I have no idea why he’s texting me. I assume it’s work related.

Thank you. Where are you?

I raise an eyebrow.

I’m out.

Anywhere special.

Not really.

Such noncommittal answers. I’m disappointed, Ms. Young. Next thing you’ll tell me is the place you’re at is great.

I gulp.

Why is he making small talk? He’s so confusing. It’s like he can sense I’m trying to have a pleasant evening without him.

I’ll have you know the place, and the people I’m with are really great.

What people?

Just people.

Stop being so vague.

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