Page 63 of A Ticking Time Boss

Hearing the words makes it real, and that reality is terrifyingly exciting. “Yes, I would.”

“Well,” Carter says. And then nothing else.

I smile. “No quip about that? No joke?”

“I’m searching for one,” he says. “Give me a few minutes.”

“Speechless. That’s a first.”

“Are you free this Friday?”

“I am, yeah. Hopefully the swelling will have gone down by then,” I say, biting my lower lip. A date. I have a date, and for the first time in months, it’s one I’m truly excited about.

“If anyone would look good with swelling, it’s you,” he says. “I’ll have to figure out a way to impress you. What about—”

There are muffled voices on the other end, and then I hear the distinct words of Mr. Kingsley. He’s working. Of course he is, I’m the one taking a day off.

When his voice is back, it’s professional in tone. “I’m afraid I have to go. Sorry to cut this short.”

“Were you in a meeting when you called me?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says. “Just stepped out. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Well… good luck at work today, honey,” I say, my voice teasing.

He gives a surprised laugh. “Spitfire,” he says fondly, before hanging up.

* * *

I rock back on my heels, bag in hand. He’d said wait outside my house and dress nice, whatever that means—is it nice enough for a ball? Or we’re going to a bar? The lack of specificity feels like a very masculine oversight.

He’s also late. Well, two minutes, but it’s given the nerves in my stomach ample time to go crazy. They multiply at the speed of light, and if the graph is exponential, I’ll be in trouble in ten minutes.

But I don’t have to wait long. A familiar black car pulls to a stop in front of the curb. My heart explodes with nerves, and I bite the inside of my cheek. Carter steps out, and the moment I see him, something inside me stills. It’s him. I can do this. I have done it many times before with him.

“Hello,” he says. He’s wearing a suit, no tie, topped with a crooked smile. “How do you feel?”

“Much better than when you saw me last. My teeth feel all better now.”

He bends to kiss my cheek. “Glad to hear it. Ready to go?”

“Where?”

“I think I’ll keep that a surprise.”

“Sneaky.” We get into the car and it takes off, weaving through traffic and back toward the city. Neither of us speaks.

Carter shifts closer. “I’d tell you that you look beautiful, and I’d mean it, but I don’t want to set off those nerves of yours.”

I chuckle. Acknowledging them feels better. “They’re already set off,” I say. “But strangely enough, it’s not that bad.”

“A resounding success. Does that mean I can say it?”

“You can.” I glance toward the driver, but he has his eyes on the road. Is he listening?

Carter doesn’t seem to care. “You look stunning,” he says. “Far better than nice.”

“Nice is hard to shoot for,” I say. “It’s a moving target.”

---