Page 11 of Matched with my Alien Boss
If only he knew. I had a feeling he would be impressed with me being a CEO of a pretty big company.
I can hire whoever I want. It is my company.
Holy.
He reacted with a fire emoji and I laughed outright.
I would happily take you as my boss over the current one, swap one alien with another.
I paused, surprised. A frown slowly drew my brows together.
Your boss is an alien?
An admittedly sexy one. But with the personality equivalent of scraping nails on a chalkboard.
For the first time since we'd started messaging days ago, an image shot into my mind. It happened sometimes when someone was particularly emotional, especially if they were angry, that I would read their minds through the electronic connection. It was exceptionally rare, but suddenly, I was looking at myself as I walked by. My gaze darted down to meet his in a dismissive way and just like that, I was sitting at my desk again, trembling.
“No way,” I whispered and before thinking, I was on my feet moving across the office to throw my door open.
My secretary squealed in surprise but I ignored her, marching into the main room, my gaze fixed on one particular employee who always got under my skin with his loud thoughts and barely concealed glares.
Clay was sitting in front of his black computer screen, head down, typing on his phone.
His curly blond hair obscured most of his face but when I stopped near him, he suddenly gasped and jolted upright as though sensing me there before seeing me.
His wide blue eyes fixed on mine and for a moment, he was like a deer in headlights.
After a moment, his parted lips snapped shut and he bashfully set his phone down.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
It took me far too long to collect myself enough to answer.
“You're not being paid to be on your phone all day.”
He nodded, his cheeks flooding with red.
“It won’t happen again,” he promised.
I nodded, forcing myself to keep walking. I did, going straight to the elevator and taking it down automatically.
It wasn't until I was outside in the open air that I felt like I could breathe again. How was this possible? The guy I had spent the last few days talking to was my own employee. And one whodidn't particularly like me. I hadn't thought that Clay was the type of person he showed me in our messages. I'd thought he was much more vapid than that.
One thing I'd been right about at least—hedidhave a face to match that body. It was borderline angelic. So sweet with soft pink lips and freckles and round, almost innocent eyes that I normally only saw filled with disdain.
I had to stop this now before it went any further.
It was the right thing to do, but the thought made me ache.
My phone dinged and I looked down, already dreading the incoming message.
I got caught texting by my boss. Please kill me.
He's such an asshole.
My heart sank.
For a minute, I didn't even want to respond.
