Page 31 of Grumpy Boss's Secret

I twitched guiltily, as if he had meant something other than the sandwich.

"I can already tell you it's great," I said. I lifted my mug again in a farewell salute. "See you both later."

I turned away, forcing myself to not look back at them. I wondered if Ian was watching me. I went to the breakroom. I wasn't about to go to Ian's office when I knew he was still in the building. He might come back for something. Thankfully, the breakroom was empty – apparently, most people were going out to lunch today – and no one was there to question me.

I poured myself a cup of the breakroom coffee, even though I was already jittery, and paced in front of the windows. Fortuitously, the windows overlooked the front of the building. I’d be able to see Ian when he walked out.

I sipped my coffee, wondering what was taking him so long. Maybe Janet had waylaid him with some Grandma-life advice. Finally, I saw a speck wearing a suit stride out of the building below me. I held my cup tightly, watching the tiny figure, ensuring it was Ian. Definitely, nobody else had a walk like that. Besides, it was the same navy suit he'd been wearing.

Burning excitedly, I set down my coffee on one table. I'd come back for it later. I stepped out into the hallway and strode down it, doing my best to act casual. If someone questioned me, I would get the book I'd leant Ian.

My heart was pounding like a bass drum – I could feel it pulsing in my ears. It wasn’t just the forbidden nature of what I was about to do – and the suspense of getting caught at it. It was also the outcome. What was I going to learn?

I didn't want to find out it wasn't true. The idea had taken such hold of me I was aching for it to be true.

In some ways, it would make things more complicated. In other ways, it would make them less difficult. In every way, it would raise the stakes. I wouldn't have two romantic options anymore. Just one. Just one unbelievably wonderful, beautiful, thrilling man.

I made my way down the hallway until I reached Ian's office. I'd never been in this part of the building before – there had been no reason for me to be. The office doors here had sidelights of clear glass, allowing me to glance inside the offices I passed. Thankfully, no one seemed to be inside any of them. Gold letters were hanging on the doors, spelling out the names of the people the offices belonged to.

The hallway smelled like lemons. Various potted plants were placed along the wall, giving me the impression of walking through a jungle. I passed Larry's office. His desk was covered in miniature figures of characters from movies and books, and he had paintings of Marvel superheroes hanging on his walls. I smiled. Ahead of me, I saw a door with gold letters that read "Ian Huntington, C.E.O." It looked the same as all the other doors, except that the gold letters were slightly larger.

I glanced at the sidelights around me furtively, ensuring no one was inside any of the nearby offices. I didn't want to have to explain walking into Ian's office when it was clear he wasn't inside. I didn't see anyone. I tiptoed up to Ian's door on cat feet.

"It might be locked," I thought and touched the handle.

It wasn’t.

“Goody goody goody,” I mouthed, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

I shut the door behind me. I could practically hear spy-movie music playing in my head. It was a friendly office. Dark bookshelves filled with books lined the walls, and a couple of black leather armchairs were tucked into one corner. The back wall was made entirely of glass and offered a breathtaking city view. The photographs on the walls were of jazz musicians. It had the same kind of décor as the house picture on Ian's Instagram. So this was definitely his house.

"You're into jazz, huh?" I thought, looking up at one of photographs. It was massive, taking up almost half of a wall. The man playing the saxophone in the photograph was nearly as large as me.

"'Jazz is the sound of people adopting. Taking dissonance and turning it into joy. It speaks to everyone listening,'" I quoted, the words rising to my lips. I hadn't even realized I'd had them memorized. It was a quote from Seventh Midnight.

“Oh, Ian, is it really you?” I whispered.

I snapped out of my musings. I didn't have all that much time. I tiptoed over to Ian's desk and sat down behind it. There wasn't much on it: a crystal globe, a leather pencil holder, and a stress ball shaped like William Shakespeare's head. His computer had gone to sleep, and I clicked on the mouse tentatively. Unlocked. I smirked.

"Ian, Ian, you should take more precautions against thieves," I murmured, exploring his desktop.

Where would the evidence be? Documents, obviously. I opened his documents. Nothing. Just contracts, spreadsheets – business documents.

“Damn,” I whispered.

It didn't prove he wasn't Kirk, but it meant I would probably never know. Unless I asked him. Yeah, then I would have to confess to all the stalking I'd been doing. Not happening.

I exhaled a sigh, telling myself I should get up and get out of there. There wasn't anything here. That made sense. If he were Kirk, he wouldn't be writing here. He'd write at home on that laptop in the picture he'd posted.

“Yeah, you’re not breaking into his house, Jozi,” I thought, smirking.

But what if he worked on the book here sometimes? He wouldn't want to keep switching documents. Maybe there was a flash drive, or…then I noticed that his internet tabs were closed but still active. I clicked on Google Chrome, pulling up his pages. A Google doc was titled "Book."

Everything seemed to slow down. I stared at the document and the words climbing down the page. The last sentence is half-finished. I read it, my mind humming as if I were drunk, drinking in the words. This was Kirk. This was Kirk's writing. I knew his syntax - the way he thought, his description patterns. It described a girl with brown hair and green eyes. Short brown hair. And an impish smile.

I heard voices in the hallway. Panicked, I ducked down, hiding under Ian's desk. They couldn't be back already, could they? How long had I been in there? I listened, my heart hammering, but the voices continued down the hallway. I inhaled slowly. Okay. Time to get out of there. I rose cautiously, ensuring no one was in the hallway anymore. I was about to hide Ian's internet pages again when I had an idea. "Oh my god, Jozi. Hurry up."

I pulled my phone from my pocket and took a picture of the page. I checked the top of the document, noting the sentence at the top of the page, and then I scrolled up. I scrolled up to the beginning of the document and hurriedly, frantically, took a picture of every page. It took me a long time. By the end , I was sweating with suspense. I knew, in theory, I had time before everyone got back from lunch, but the longer I stayed in the office, the more it felt like I was about to get caught.

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