Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“What’s his last name?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I didn’t want to make it a thing.”
“It’s already a thing,” he says.
“I handled it,” I say quickly.
“I’m sure you did,” he replies. “But it’s my job to make sure you don’t have to.”
There’s something final in the way he says it, like there’s no room for argument.
“How has the first day been otherwise?” he asks after typing something into his computer.
I exhale slowly. “As you may know, it’s been pretty eventful.”
That earns a ghost of a smile that changes the atmosphere instantly.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” he says. “It was a personnel issue that should have been handled before it reached your floor.”
I nod, even though we both know that wasn’t a personnel issue. I don’t say it. I don’t ask the question that’s been burning in my throat all day.
“Apart from that, how are you finding it here?” he asks.
I swallow. “The work is good. The team’s sharp. The systems are clean.”
“Did you expect a mess?” He tilts his head, curious.
“I expected a challenge,” I admit. “This place moves fast.”
He nods. “It has to.”
His eyes stay on mine a beat too long.
Something shifts between us. The silence deepens, becoming charged. I try to look away, but I can’t.
“You seem comfortable here already,” he says nonchalantly.
Now it’s my turn to tilt my head. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” he says. “It’s just rare. Most new hires look like they’re going to shit themselves for at least their first week. I’ve never seen someone look like they belong so quickly.”
I force a small laugh, even though my throat’s gone dry. “I’m not sure I’d say I feel like I belong.”
“You carry yourself like you do.”
That surprises me.
“That’s probably just the suit. It really projects false confidence.”
His gaze flicks down my body and back up. “It’s a good suit.”
The words hang in the air between us, and there’s almost a proposition in the way he says it. I’m not imagining it. I know I’m not. There’s something in the way he’s looking at me too, steady and intense. I’d swear he’s thinking about undoing the buttons of this jacket he just complimented. And I can’t pretend I’m not thinking about the same thing.
“You’ve surprised me,” he says after a moment.
“How so?”
“You’re younger than I expected,” he says. “Most of the candidates for this role were in their thirties. You’re what, in your early twenties?”
“Twenty-one,” I tell him.
He nods. “And you’re already so capable.”
“And that surprises you?” I ask, confused. Why shouldn’t I be so capable already? I worked very hard to get here.
“A little,” he admits. “But more than anything, you’ve impressed me.”
My pulse trips.
There’s nothing casual in the way he says it. He’s very direct, and it’s clear he isn’t just impressed by my coding skills.
He stands and steps toward me, then perches on the edge of his desk, gazing down at me.
“And you’re very good under pressure,” he adds. “Not everyone would’ve kept their cool the way you did earlier. You gave a master class in calming a crowd.”
“Someone had to,” I say softly.
He’s so close to me, I can almost feel his body heat. He doesn’t touch me, but he doesn’t need to. His presence alone is enough to fill every inch of space between us. I feel his gaze like a physical weight on me, and it makes my heart stutter.
“Your generation doesn’t get enough credit,” he says.
“For what?” I ask, taken aback.
“For knowing what you want,” he says, the words weighted.
I try to laugh it off, but the sound catches in my throat.
“You think I know what I want?” I ask, incredulous.
“I do.” His voice is firm and sure.
I should leave. I know I should. I should take a step back and draw a line and remind us both that this is inappropriate, that I work for him, that this is dangerous in ways I can’t even begin to unravel yet.
But I don’t.
Because he’s looking at me like I’m something rare. Something interesting. Something worth pausing for.
And the worst part is, I like it. I want him to keep looking at me that way. I want him to. To lean in closer. To close the distance between us.
“I don’t normally do this,” he says.
“Do what?”
“Speak with my employees on their first day. Invite them into my office. Alone. Waste time chatting with them when we’re both busy.”
I hesitate.
“I don’t think this is wasting time.”
He smiles faintly. “Then maybe it’s not.”
He takes another step forward, slow enough that I could stop him if I wanted to. I don’t. My breath hitches. My palms are damp. Every inch of my body is on high alert, waiting, bracing for something I shouldn’t want.
His eyes drop to my mouth. He doesn’t move closer, but I swear I feel the heat of him all the same.