Page 31 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
His lips twitched. “You find my apology funny?”
“No, it’s justyou’reapologizing tome.”
He still looked confused.
“You’re Dean Prince. I work here cleaning offices. I should be apologizing to you. I was horribly embarrassed for not knocking that night. I’m sorry for walking in on you like I did.”
He smiled at me. “First of all, here at Prince Industries, we value all of our employees. Every job is important.”
I raised my eyebrow.
“What?”
“Really? You sound like you’re reading from a brochure.” He could have me fired on the spot for a quip like that. Something about him made me bold. Maybe it was the night we spent together? Perhaps it was because he didn’t fire me after I walked in on him practically naked.
Whatever it was, something about him made me feel empowered to speak my mind.
“It’s true.”
I stayed silent.
“It is. I’ve worked my way up in this company. In the beginning, I didn’t let people know who I was just so I could get a feel for the place, see if job satisfaction was as good as what was portrayed. And for the most part, it was. There will always be people who don’t fulfill the model in the way we prefer, but they are given a chance to change. If they don’t, then they’re out.”
“Oh.” I’d read good things about Prince Industries over the years, enough that I questioned the negative narrative my stepmother touted.
To hear it from Dean, to see the passion he felt for this company, was pretty incredible.Thiswas what I wanted for my own business and for my own employees.
I smiled at him. “Let’s start over. Are we good?”
His laughter filled the space, and I couldn't help but notice how it made the corners of his mouth crinkle at the sides. “Yeah, we’re good.”
He gestured for me to leave the bathroom first. I walked out, thankful things were not going to get any weirder and that he had a sense of humor. As if my thoughts were finding a reason to mock me, I tripped over the stupid vacuum cleaner I’d forgotten I’d plugged in.
His hands wrapped around my waist, stopping me from hitting the ground. My breath caught as fire licked everywhere he touched, and my traitorous thoughts rushed to the night we’d shared. I’d wondered if I’d built the desire and passion up in my mind. This one touch, though, made me believe I hadn’t.
His eyes narrowed in confusion. Afraid he might start to make the connection, even a loose one, I slipped out of his grasp. Even though it irritated me that he didn’t instantly recognize me, right now I wasn’t ready for him to. I needed this job.
My appearance might be slightly different. But the spark of attraction—that we couldn't hide.
“How was your trip?” I asked, breaking the silence, hoping to distract him while I cleaned.
“Uh, not as good as I’d hoped,” he answered, the look of confusion still firmly in place. I nervously moved around the room while he sat back at his desk, his gaze following each step I took.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Where did you go?” I asked, swiping furniture with my microfiber towel and neatly arranging items.
“Paris.”
My heart stopped. “Oh, wow. I’d love to go there.”
“I’ve been there so often I forget how it is for someone seeing it for the first time. Would you want to see the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre Museum?”
“No,” I stopped cleaning to look at him, “you’ll probably laugh.”
“Now I’m intrigued. You have to tell me.” He placed his elbows on his desk and propped his chin on top of his hands. His interest in what I was about to say seemed to push aside any lingering thoughts he might have had about me.
“My mother had gone to Paris once with my dad. I’d always dreamed of going to see the rooftop of the Pantheon. You can see the whole city from up there. That’s where he proposed to her. So in her memory, that’s what I’d want to see first. And then I’d see the Eiffel Tower ... What kind of tourist would I be if I didn’t admire it just a little?”
He smiled. “I hope you get to see that one day.”
