Page 15 of Grumpy Boss's Secret

Ian's face was a blank mask again. His eyebrows lifted again slightly. Maybe he was a little afraid of me.

“What did you want me to do, say good morning and talk about the sex we’d had?” Ian said.

I noticed his ears turning slightly pink as he spoke. Or was it my imagination?

"Good morning would have been fine," I said crispy. "Now you're acting like it didn't even happen."

"No, I'm acting like it happened, and it shouldn't have," Ian admitted. He looked right into my eyes. I felt as though a strong wind had suddenly hit me.

"Good morning, Jozi," he said, walking inside the building.

Chapter Six

As the Huntington Skies publicist, I knew I was not doing my job when I dumped coffee all over my boss just before he was due to be photographed by an international fashion magazine. I had been aware, however, that he was about to change his clothes.

I was impressed with Ian for just walking in there and greeting the photographer without embarrassment about the large brown stain pooling across the top of his dress shirt.

"We had an accident with some coffee," Ian said breezily, beaming a smile I'd never seen on his face before. The man could be charming when he put his mind to it.

"Good thing I've got a couple of outfits planned out for you," said the photographer, shaking Ian's hand and mine. She was tall, with curly brown hair and dark red lipstick. She spoke with a light French accent. "He smells great, doesn't he?" she told me. "Mr. Huntington, go ahead to your dressing room. Put on the royal blue suit first, please."

“Aw, we’ll match,” I said.

Ian turned and gave me a look that could have turned Attila the Hun to stone.

“Thanks, Beverly,” he said to the photographer. “Down this hall?”

“Down that hall and to your left,” she said. “Ms. Freiding and I will talk shop while you get changed.”

Ian set off down the hallway, walking slightly stiffly than usual.

“I love the smell of coffee on a man in the morning,” laughed Beverly.

“Mm, it was a latte,” I said. “It’ll turn rancid soon enough.”

“That suit is going to be ruined,” she said.

I could tell she was about to ask me what on earth had happened? I didn’t really care to explain.

“I can run it over to a dry cleaner while you get ready,” I said, rechannelling the subject. “Maybe they can save it.”

I was also feeling a little guilty. I'd jumped too quickly to conclude that Ian was a jerk.

“Sure,” said Beverly. “There’s one a block away from here. Do you speak any Greek?”

I shook my head. “I’ve got a translator app on my phone, though, and that should do the trick.”

“Cool,” she said, smiling, even though I was sure she probably spoke seven languages and had every right to judge me.

"Then you take off with the suit, and I'll start prepping the shots we're doing indoors here," said Beverly. "Walk down to his dressing room and tell him to meet me in the studio at the end of the hall here."

“Will do,” I said.

In truth, I was glad to have a moment to myself. Hauling a coffee-drenched suit to a cleaner that didn't speak the same language may not have sounded like a glamorous task. Still, I was eager to do some walking and thinking. Whatever Ian had meant by "I don't know what you mean," it wasn't in complete denial that we'd slept together. He just thought we shouldn't have done it.

I could agree with that. Mostly. I started down the hall to Ian's dressing room, my mind reviewing our conversation. To my surprise, Ian stepped out of a doorway and into the hallway.

“That was fast,” I said.

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