Page 219 of Worthy

Tossing my satchel down onto my desk and throwing my sopping coat over the chair, I make my way to my boss’s office. I’m two hours late. Which is not like me at all. I sent him a message letting him know I’d be late, but he didn’t respond back. That could mean he either didn’t see it, or he’s irritated with my absence.

I knock twice before pushing open the door, already knowing his office won’t have anyone but him inside. He doesn’t have any meetings scheduled today. His head jerks up and his eyes widen as he takes me in.

“Sorry I’m late,” I mutter, stepping into his office. “You wouldn’t believe the morning I’ve had.”

“You’re wet,” he says as his eyes roam over me.

I glance down, noting the way my white button-down is now translucent as it sticks to me like a second skin. Son of a bitch. “I’m sorry. This is so unprofessional. I could have gone home and changed but that would have made me another hour late and I just didn’t want—”

“What happened?” he asks, voice slightly husky, and the tone causes my gaze to fly up to his. He’s looking at me with something I can’t quite decipher but the probing stare causes me to shudder involuntarily. Damn, he’s so attractive. Pushing that thought from my mind, because I don’t need a hard-on for my boss in front of him, I then proceed to tell him about my screwed-up morning.

“That sounds like a terrible way to start the day.” His eyes run over me one last time before he clears his throat and stands from his desk. Owen has one of those rolling garment racks in his office that he keeps extra clothes on in case of emergencies. He flips through a few before pulling off a white button-down and a pair of black slacks. “Here.” Walking to me, he holds the clothes out for me to take.

“Oh, no. I—”

He nudges them to me once more. “Just take them. Go change. You can’t work like that all day, you’ll be uncomfortable.”

I’m stunned for a second because I wasn’t expecting that. Owen’s a good guy, I always knew that, but this just proves it.

My heart pounds as I stare at him. He cares about my comfort? That’s really sweet. The thought has tears burning the back of my eyes. It’s been a long time since anyone cared about me at all, let alone if I would be miserable in wet clothes for most of the day.

I take them, unable to say anything with the lump that’s suddenly formed in my throat. “Go use my bathroom. Change. We’ll start once you’re done,” he says, but I stand there for a beat, eyes searching his, for what I couldn’t tell you. I’m just so taken aback. “You okay?” His mouth turns down in a frown and it’s enough to snap me into gear. Nodding, I head to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly and leaning back heavily against it as I try to catch my breath.

That was weird. Owen and I don’t have moments. Not like that anyway. We have a one-hundred-percent professional, working relationship. At least on the outside, he doesn’t need to know about all the fantasies I play inside my head on a daily basis. Sue me, he’s fucking hot. All dark hair, tanned skin, mile-long lashes, and big, brown eyes. I often get lost in looking at him.

I swear, I can’t believe I got the job when he hired me. I thought I was going to pass out from nerves, but then I saw him and it was like the air was sucked out of the room. I’m the type of person who can’t shut up when they’re nervous. It’s a curse. I become a motormouth, then when the pressure flares I start moving my hands like I’m trying to land a plane. Overanimated is what my mom used to call it. I just call it embarrassing. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until it’s all said and done with.

Despite all that, he still hired me. Maybe he was desperate or just felt bad enough for me to give me a chance. Either way, I’m thankful because I was in a desperate situation before landing the job.

Hooking the hangers on the back of the door I begin the process of peeling off my button-down and then tossing it on the sink. I kick off my shoes, glad that my socks are only slightly damp. That’ll suck but at least it’s manageable. I shuck my pants next and then grab his shirt. The material feels like butter gliding between my fingers. No doubt this shirt costs a day’s pay for me.

Sliding it on, I button it quickly, trying to ignore the way it smells. It’s silly, this shirt has been dry-cleaned, and yet the thought of putting on something that has touched his naked skin causes my dick to perk with interest. I snort out a laugh at my ridiculousness.

Dream on, Lance. He’s way too good for you. You’d never stand a chance.Plus, I’m almost positive he’s straight. I mean he’s never dated anyone, but I take pride in the fact that my gaydar is always pretty spot-on.

I finish dressing, thankful that I have my belt or these pants would be falling off of me, and cuffing the bottoms two times. Owen isn’t a whole lot bigger than me but he’s definitely wider in the waist and about four inches taller. So sharing pants is a no-go. The shirt fits well enough though.

I hang my wet clothes on the hangers and leave them on the bathroom door before looking at myself in the mirror. Ugh, I look awful, like a wet dog. My hair is all shaggy and I run my fingers through it, trying to tame the mess. I can feel the sticky texture of my gel from it getting wet and cringe, but what can I do? I have work to do. Wiping my glasses and giving myself one last look, deciding this is as good as it gets today, I exit the bathroom.

Owen is on his computer but still glances up when I enter the room. His eyes look me over and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip. My cheeks heat at the action. Is he checking me out? No way, he can’t be. This is Owen, super serious Owen.Your boss.

I clear my throat, then take a few steps towards him. “Thanks for letting me borrow these. The pants are too big, but they work.” I sit down in the plush chair, waiting for him to get to business.

“You’re welcome to my clothes anytime.” His voice is a bit husky and his eyes widen as he shakes his head, as if to clear it before looking back to his computer. “I mean… anyway. I see there are no meetings on the agenda for today which is good because I have to check over this design for the new building as well as the budget.”

I thought he did that already? “Still getting pushback from Oliver?”

He drags a hand down his face and sighs. “He’s becoming a pain in my ass. Numbers don’t lie and he’s asking for too much money.”

Oliver is a grade-A tool. I don’t like him and I can’t wait for the day that Owen gets rid of him. “What’s the issue this time?”

“Jacking the pricing up on installments. Just because a product is more expensive doesn’t mean the labor should be.” He pauses. “He’s basically refusing to do the job he’s been contracted to do unless we pay him more.”

“Lovely.” I sigh, standing from my chair. “Do you need me to handle him for you?”

He eyes me pleadingly. “If you could. Tell him the budget isn’t changing and if he doesn’t want to do the work for the original price then we will shop around for a different company.”

I give him a nod. “Sounds good.”

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