Page 23 of Rude Boss 2

“It’s not an insult. It’s me knowing who I am and what kind of man I want. We have different lifestyles, and I may not have much, but I love my little apartment. It’s cozy. It’s all I need. After a long day of work, I go there and I’m relaxed. I don’t need anything more. You, on the other hand, want more when you already have everything. That means you’re never satisfied. I doubt if anything or anyone can satisfy you.”

He drinks tea and says nothing about what I just told him like he’s not accepting anything I said – letting it roll off his back instead.

“You don’t have anything to say to that?”

“No. Not at all,” he says evenly.

“Good job controlling your angry outbursts, Essex. See, this is good practice for your upcoming test this week.”

He keeps on eating. I know I struck a nerve – I just don’t know how deep the wound is. The man usually never lets anything get to him.

“Make sure you RSVP for the employee appreciation gala,” he tells me.

“What’s so good about this gala?”

“It’s a good time. I’m sure you and your work friends will enjoy yourselves. And if you’re concerned that ourconnectionwill be detected by your coworkers, you won’t have to worry about that. I won’t say a word to you. In fact, I’ll pretend I hate your very existence.”

“Wow. That’s harsh.”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asks, his eyes bright and attentive. He watches as I frown and narrow my eyes. I’ve done that so many times, they should be permanently frozen in that position.

I respond, “No, that’s not what I want.”

He shakes his head and smirks, but he looks heated and conflicted like he’s trying his best not to unleash his wrath upon me. It takes a lot of energy for him to be a nice guy. Why on earth would I want a man like that? A man who lacks proper self-control? It’s like always being in a field of land mines. You know they can go off, so you tiptoe around them so as not to disturb them, but if you accidentally step on one, it’s game over.

I say, “It makes for an easier work environment if we weren’t likethisin the office. That’s all.”

When we finish eating, he tosses a folded one-hundred-dollar bill on the table and says, “I’m riding back to the office with you.”

Great.

I do not want to be in close proximity to him again, but what choice do I have?

“Did you hear me?” he asks, standing.

“Um…yeah. Sure.” I drink more water before standing.

“If it’s a problem, Quintessa, I can call Cooper.”

“No, that’s not necessary. You can ride with me. No problem.”

But it is a problem. He is the way that he is, but I’m still attracted to him. Very much so. He’s rude, but he’s also charismatic, generous and charming. He has a way about him. The swag. The confidence. The good looks…

We walk to the car. He opens the door for me, then walks around to get into the passenger seat.

“Ah…no makeup and lotion bottles today,” he says.

The last time he was in my car, it was full of my personal toiletry items. I say, “Since moving into my apartment, I no longer live like a nomad.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Very much so.” I start up the car and begin the short drive back to the office. “Thanks for lunch.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies, his eyes fixed on the side of my face.

I try to concentrate on the road to avoid his eyes. It’s a relief when he finally turns away from me.

Pulling into the parking lot, I find a close parking space and tell him, “Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll come in after you’re inside.”

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