Page 26 of Grumpy Boss's Secret

Potato blinked.

"Yes, he did," I said, standing up again and pulling my heels off. "Then he followed me in his car and drove me home."

I was a little buzzed from the party. The physical shock of the cold rain had awakened all my senses physically, but my mind was in a warm haze from the alcohol. It was a pleasant combination.

I hummed a little as I finished undressing and stepped into the shower. The warm water cascaded over me, causing my skin to feel just as warm as my spirits. I slathered myself in mango-scented soap and shut my eyes, letting the feeling wash over me.

"He drove me home," I said again. "He left the party, ran out to his car, and drove down the street to find me. He must have done that quickly to have found me when he did. Maybe right away. I wonder what everybody thought of that."

I kept humming. As exciting as a walk back to my apartment in a blinding thunderstorm might have been, I was grateful. And I was thankful he'd cared enough to come after me like that.

Was he just coming on to me? Was it a ploy, an attempt to sleep with me again? I bit my lip. I still didn't want it to be easy, but I didn't mind the thought of him wanting to sleep with me. Or is it happening again?

“What would have happened if I hadn’t run out of the car? Would he have just said, ‘Goodnight’ and left it at that, or would he have asked to come up?” I wondered. “Is he just horny, or is he really into me?”

The question of the ages.

I finished showering, wrapped myself in a tangerine-colored towel, and padded out of the bathroom barefoot. My phone was still resting on the kitchen counter, and I went to pick it up. I looked at Ian's Instagram.

A new post. I leaned against the counter as I clicked on it, my phone held close to my face in eagerness. A picture of the city in the rain. Streetlights and stoplights cast long tendrils of glimmering gold and ruby across the wet road – rivers of light in the rain. It was beautiful. There wasn't a quote this time. Just the word, "Goodnight."

“Oh, good grief,” I muttered.

It couldn’t be about me. It couldn’t be. The other posts weren’t about me. I’d never left my lipstick lying on his bathroom sink.

“He’s probably just daydreaming about falling in love,” I said, setting my phone down. “Or something. It can’t be about me.”

That's what I told myself, but my heart was pounding, and a pink, sparkling kind of happiness filled my whole body. I entered my bedroom, got into my pajamas, and left my phone in the kitchen. As I was pulling on a pair of fuzzy socks, I heard the phone vibrate against the counter. I waltzed out into the kitchen again, scaring a cautiously-exploring Potato back into the bathroom.

“Sorry, baby,” I said, picking up my phone.

An email from Kirk. My stomach twisted.

“Oh, this is complicated,” I muttered.

But was it really? Kirk wanted to avoid meeting with me. I'd never met him. What did it matter if I was in love with him? I should be moving on. Trying to move on was the right thing to do. Yeah, but I couldn't have Ian, either. He was my boss. Yep, complicated. There was a knock on my office door. I set my pen down and looked up curiously.

“Come in,” I said.

So far, the only person who had ever knocked on my office door was Ian. I smoothed my hair down. The door opened. Ian. “Hey,” I said.

The last time I'd seen him, I'd been dripping rainwater all over his Porsche, and he'd just thanked me for letting him kiss me. Now he was stepping into my office with an energy I didn't recognize. It was soft. Almost bashful.

He was clean-shaven today. He looked as smooth and suave as a magazine cover. Butterflies were churning around in my stomach.

“Do you want coffee?” he asked. I raised my eyebrows.

“Kevin is ordering coffee from Antigone,” he said. “His treat.”

“Then why isn’t Kevin asking me?” I said.

“I offered to ask you,” he said.

We stared at each other for a moment. I could feel a smile growing on my face.

“I’ll just take a latte, please,” I said.

"Keep it away from my suit," he said, shutting the door.

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