Page 14 of Grumpy Boss's Secret

The corners of my mouth turned up. The man was an enigma, that was for sure. I walked down the staircase after Ian. The hotel's restaurant was on the ground floor. It housed various large plants, dark furniture with a glossy finish, and heavenly smells.

I strode inside, looking for our group. We were scheduled to have an informal breakfast meeting to review that day's itinerary. I caught sight of a cluster of men in business suits sitting at a table by a window. Ian was sitting at the end of the table, looking in my direction. As soon as I saw him, he turned away. I smirked.

Breakfast was delicious. After getting halfway through our food, Ian tapped his glass with his knife, calling for attention. He looked like he was about to give a toast at a wedding. Except he didn't because he couldn't have looked less enthusiastic.

"The photo shoot is today," he said. "Jozi will take care of the details. She and I will leave for it after the meeting with Golding at 11:00. Anderson, at the meeting, makes sure you…."

I stopped listening to him. I just watched his face while he talked. He'd looked at me when he said my name without a flicker of embarrassment or acknowledgement or affection. Just…flat. Was this man a robot or something?

I munched the rest of my breakfast irritably. There had been much for Ian to say: it was a pep talk. With a sloshing in my stomach, I realized I would spend the rest of my day with him. I will be at the photo shoot. It was my job to oversee the photographer and give suggestions.

"He'll probably say something later," I told myself, sipping my orange juice. "He's surrounded by his employees right now."

They held the meeting at the offices of Golding, Inc., and we drove there after breakfast. They took us on a tour of the building, an impressive seven-story modern structure overlooking the water. Ian never looked at me once during the entire time.

The meeting was long and tedious, although the view from the windows was beautiful. I listened on and off – most of what they said– did not apply to my personal work agenda – and explored my thoughts about Ian.

He couldn’t just be embarrassed, surely? He had shown no traces of embarrassment last night. And he couldn’t just be too shy to say something to me––after all, the man owned a billion-dollar company. He was clearly able to take charge of situations. His confidence was dazzling.

Was he really just that much of a jerk? I glanced at him surreptitiously, even though someone else was speaking on the other end of the table. He was looking right at me with an odd glint in his eyes. As soon as I turned to him, he looked away.

I blinked and looked down, wondering what that meant. It had been too quick for me to guess what he was thinking. There was a gleam in his eyes, but he hadn't been smiling. Was it affection, worry, dislike, anxiety, or admiration? I couldn't be sure. I needed to talk to this man.

Luckily for me, we were the only two people going to the photoshoot. Obviously, we took a taxi together. Ian didn't look at me as we left the Golding, Inc. building. He didn't look at me as we got into the cab. He sat there, thumbing through paperwork that I knew for a fact didn't need to be dealt with for at least a week. As we drove, I commented on the buildings we passed and eagerly pointed out a stray cat running across the road. To each of my statements, Ian just grunted.

“I’d like to stop for coffee, please,” I told the taxi driver. I turned to Ian. “What do you want?”

Ian paused for a long moment, his eyes on the back of the seat before him. "Nothing," he said.

“Mm,” I said.

The taxi stopped along the side of the road while I got out and purchased a medium latte for myself at a coffee shop catered towards tourists. I sipped it quietly in the back seat as we continued to drive, glancing at Ian and wondering what to make of him.

Finally, we exited the taxi in front of the photographer's studio. We would start there, get Ian dressed in whatever outfit the photographer had planned, and then drive to various locations for the shoot. It was for the world-renowned fashion magazine Divine, but we'd also be able to use some images. I'd arranged that.

As we walked toward the building, Ian stared straight ahead.

"Okay," I said, finally losing my patience, "this is ridiculous. It's not our first encounter, and we're no longer in front of anyone else. Can you please just act normal again? What are you so worried about? It's not like you've never had sex before."

As I spoke, Ian kept walking straight, his eyes staring ahead. I trotted alongside him, moving sideways to keep my eyes on his face. I saw his eyebrows lift slightly when I said "sex."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ian said.

I stopped walking. Oh, complete denial, was it? Ian kept moving further toward the building. He was almost to the front doors.

Furious, I strode after him, making up my lost paces. Just before he put his handle on the building door, I tore off the lid of my coffee and dumped it over his shoulders. Ian whirled around.

“Why the hell did you do that?” he cried, wiping the driblets of coffee off the arms of his suit. A couple of droplets had launched themselves onto his chin. “This is a four-hundred-dollar suit!”

"Look, sugarplum," I said, tossing my empty cup and lid into a nearby trashcan. "I had sex with you last night because I was curious. I realize it was a heat-of-the-moment thing, which was a huge mistake. I did not expect you to buy me breakfast afterwards."

"I bought you breakfast; I'm paying for this trip."

“Oh, my God!” I yelled.

“Keep your voice down,” Ian said, finally locating those shining droplets on his chin and wiping them off.

"But I expected you to speak to me like a human being," I whispered fiercely, "and acknowledge that your dick was inside me last night!"

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