Page 50 of Say You Remember Me
I just hoped that when the weekend was over, my heart would remember that any feelings I may or may not catch for my handsome boss would have to remain fake.
16
MADDIE
A knock soundedon the door attached to Ian’s room just a few minutes after eight o’clock. Having overslept, since I’d apparently forgotten to set my alarm last night, I’d been rushing around in a panic to get ready before my breakfast meeting with Ian.
Because yeah, even though I’d be pretending to be his significant other this weekend, he was still definitely my boss, and therefore, would probably still expect me to be on time and professionally dressed for the meetings we had scheduled.
When I opened the door, I expected to find Ian standing there wearing a suit and tie, since that was all I’d ever seen him in. Instead, he was dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, like he’d decided to take a quick run or hit the gym before breakfast.
Which made sense, I guess. The kind of muscles he had didn’t just show up without effort.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if I should text you or just knock on this door,” he said, his eyes warm as he glanced down at me, seeming to take in the white blouse and pink skirt I wore. “But breakfast just got here, so we can get started whenever you’re ready.”
“I’ll be right there,” I said. Then I grabbed my phone and a notebook and followed Ian into his room.
His room looked much the same as it had the day before, the only real difference being that his bed looked slept in now.
“This way,” he said, gesturing toward the open balcony doors. So I followed him out to the small table he’d set up, complete with white linens, silver domed platters, and coffee that steamed invitingly in the cool morning air. “It’s a nice morning,” he said, giving a nod toward the sun-kissed Boston skyline. “I figured we could enjoy it out here.”
I stepped onto the balcony, breathing in the summer air, and the city seemed to stretch out beneath us, bathed in soft sunlight, the traffic below distant enough to add a gentle hum to the calm.
“You can sit here,” Ian said, pulling out a chair for me. Once we were both seated, he lifted the lid on my plate, revealing a fluffy omelet folded around fresh veggies and melted cheese, exactly what I’d ordered.
I glanced at his plate and noticed he had the same food. “Looks like we have the same taste.”
“Your order sounded so good,” he said, his cheeks coloring slightly, “that I may have been forced to copy you.”
I reached for my coffee, smiling to myself as I added a splash of half-and-half and a drizzle of honey. Stirring, I took a tentative sip, savoring the warmth that slowly spread through me.
“So,” I began, setting my mug down, “what’s the plan for when we’re around your clients? Am I supposed to do the fiancée thing during those meals, or stick to the assistant role?”
“Good question,” he said, patting his lips with his napkin. “I think for the client lunches and dinners, it’s best if I introduce you as my assistant and keep things professional, since that’s how they’ll know you going forward from this weekend.”
“Makes sense.” I nodded, thinking that sounded like a good idea. “Just keep things how they were at dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Kwan, then?”
“Yes, exactly.” He smiled. “I mean, if we were actually engaged, we’d probably keep it low-key at work, right? My parents have always handled things that way, at least.”
“What about the conference and the mixers?” I asked. “Should we just do the same with those, too?”
“Margot will probably be at a lot of those,” Ian said, scrunching up his nose. “And while I hope she won’t be constantly watching us, I think it would probably be best if we acted more like a couple during those events.”
“So with clients, I’m just your assistant,” I said, tilting my head thoughtfully. “And at the mixers, I’m the assistant that you couldn’t resist asking to marry you.”
“Yes, something like that.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, seeming to like how I’d worded it.
“I really got my claws into you quickly now, didn’t I?” I asked playfully, cutting into my omelet with my fork. “Worked for you for only two and a half weeks and you couldn’t resist proposing that I stay by your side forever.”
“I mean, clearly,” Ian said with a chuckle, playing along, “one look into those beautiful blue eyes of yours and I was hypnotized.”
And when his gaze flicked across the table to meet mine, I couldn’t stop the heat from rising up my neck and coloring my cheeks.
Unable to hold his gaze for longer than two seconds, I looked down at my plate again. Trying to push my blush away, I asked, “Do you think we should put any sort of guidelines in place? Just so we kind of know what each other’s boundaries are, PDA-wise.”
“Ah yes.” He cleared his throat, his gaze focusing like he’d gotten lost in thought for a moment. “That’s probably a good idea.” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. “So…how are you with PDA in general? Do you like it, or prefer to keep things private?”
“I’m fine with little things. Holding hands, staying close,” I said. “But anything more than a quick peck in public is crossing more into territory I’m not super comfortable having onlookers witness.”
