Page 17 of Bossalicious Bad Boy

"Of course," I say, pausing in my tracks. "What's up?"

"Quick question about the budget for Project Aurora," he begins, and we dive into a rapid-fire discussion, our words efficient and to the point. It's easy to lose track of time when immersed in the details of our work, but as CEO, it's important for me to strike the right balance between involvement and delegation.

"Alright, thanks for the clarification, Alex," Tim says with a nod, visibly satisfied with our exchange. "I'll get right on that."

"Great, keep me posted," I tell him before continuing on my way. As I enter my office, I take a moment to appreciate the stunning view of the city skyline, feeling a sense of pride in the empire I've built. But there's still so much more to do, and I'm eager to tackle the challenges of the day head-on.

"Let's get to work," I murmur to myself, rolling up my sleeves and diving into the mountain of emails and documents that await my attention. There's no time to waste, and every decision I make has the potential to impact the lives of my employees and the future of my company. It's a responsibility I don't take lightly.

I immerse myself in the world of spreadsheets, meetings, and phone calls. As I sit at my desk, I can't help but notice Clara across the room, her eyes focused intently on her computer screen. She's so different from anyone I've ever known – ambitious, intelligent, and undeniably attractive. The way her wavy hair cascades past her shoulders, framing her face in a way that highlights her natural beauty. A blush rises to my cheeks as I realize I'm staring, but I can't seem to look away.

"Hey, Alex, can you take a look at this report for me?" Clara asks, snapping me out of my reverie. She approaches my desk, her radiant smile making my heart skip a beat.

"Of course," I reply, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. I skim through the pages of the report, occasionally glancing up at Clara to ask questions or provide feedback. But even as I engage in our professional exchange, I can't help but be acutely aware of the electricity that seems to crackle between us.

"Thanks for your input, Alex. It really helps," she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll make those revisions and get it back to you later."

"Sounds good," I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. I watch as she walks back to her desk, feeling that familiar tug of attraction deep within my chest. We both know that pursuing anything beyond a professional relationship would be a bad idea – after all, I am her boss – but it doesn't stop my heart from racing whenever she's near.

Throughout the day, our interactions continue in much the same way. We collaborate on projects, discussing ideas and strategies with ease. And yet, there's always that underlying tension, the knowledge that we're both fighting against something more.

During a meeting, I find myself distracted by the way her lips move as she speaks, the passion and intelligence behind her words. I try to focus on the content of her presentation, but my mind keeps drifting back to the undeniable chemistry between us.

"Alexander, any thoughts?" one of my colleagues asks, jolting me back to reality.

"Uh, yes," I stutter, trying to gather my thoughts. "I think Clara's proposal has a lot of potential. Let's explore it further."

"Great," Clara says, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment, before quickly looking away.

As the day wears on, I become increasingly aware of my inability to concentrate on anything other than Clara. My heart races, my palms grow sweaty, and my stomach churns with a mixture of desire and anxiety. It's becoming impossible to maintain my professional demeanor, and I know I need to find a way to resolve this internal conflict.

"Hey, Alex," Clara's voice disrupts my thoughts like a siren song. "Do you have a minute to discuss the quarterly report?"

"Of course," I reply, attempting to keep my tone light and professional, but there's an unintentional warmth that seeps through. I motion her towards my office, and she follows, clutching her laptop against her chest.

"Alright, so I've been analyzing the numbers, and it looks like we're on track for a great quarter," she begins, her words confident and crisp. It's almost impossible not to admire her enthusiasm and dedication to our projects.

"Excellent," I say, my eyes flicking briefly to her face before darting away, afraid of lingering too long. "Any areas you think could use improvement?"

"Perhaps we could streamline the communication between departments," she suggests, her gaze steady and focused. "It might help us avoid any delays in the future."

"Good point," I agree, my voice catching slightly, betraying my growing difficulty in maintaining a strictly professional demeanor. Damn it, Alex, get it together, I scold myself internally.

As Clara leaves my office, I can't help but feel a familiar rush of attraction, tinged with the ever-present worry that I'm letting my personal feelings interfere with my professional life. The more I interact with her, the harder it becomes to separate the two.

"Alex, could you sign off on these invoices?" another colleague asks, pulling me out of my reverie.

"Sure," I say, forcing myself to refocus on the task at hand. It's becoming increasingly difficult to maintain this facade, but I have no other choice – at least not yet.

As the day wears on, I find myself stumbling over my words and avoiding eye contact with Clara, unable to shake the gnawing feeling that I'm dancing dangerously close to the edge of something I can't control. And as much as I want to simply let go, to allow myself to fully embrace the connection between us, I know I must tread carefully – for both our sakes.

My heart races as I walk past Clara's desk, trying my hardest not to glance in her direction. I’ve been finding more and more reasons to come out here, just to be near her. I can feel the sweat forming on my palms, and a churning sensation in my stomach that seems to only intensify whenever she's near. It's all I can do to keep from betraying my feelings, but I know I must maintain a professional demeanor – for both our sakes.

"Alexander," calls out Julie, "we have a meeting with the marketing team in five minutes."

"Thanks, Julie," I respond, grateful for the distraction. Interacting with other colleagues is like taking a breath of fresh air, allowing me to momentarily forget about the storm raging inside me. "Lead the way."

As we enter the conference room, I take my seat at the head of the table, feeling an odd sense of relief as I find myself surrounded by people who aren't Clara. Everyone exchanges polite greetings before diving into the discussion at hand. My focus sharpens, my words coming out smoothly and confidently – a stark contrast to earlier stumbles around Clara.

---