Page 22 of My Favorite Boss

“Nope. Stopped a lecture, though.”

I sighed and hung up my coat, setting my coffee on the warmer. Myers came in, carrying her notebook. I noticed her walk was still a little off, and before I could stop myself, I asked, “How’s the foot?”

“Much better. Flats today, though,” she replied, lifting her foot. I tried not to stare as the fluffy skirt she wore fell back, exposing her calf. She smoothed down the layers with a smile. “I went girly today.”

A chuckle escaped my throat. “Myers, you’re girly every day.”

With her skirt, she wore another pretty blouse. Deep blue, with short sleeves edged in lace. The skirt was patterned with flowers in white and black. She looked… I sighed inwardly as I admitted it to myself. Adorable. She looked adorable—and alluring. Girly, pretty, yet fine for the office. I was supposed to hate adorable, yet I was finding it hard to do so when it came to Myers.

She laughed. “I suppose I am.” Then she got busy, discussing my calendar, upcoming meetings. I handed her a stack of papers I needed her to finish, file, and send to clients. “I need as few interruptions the next while as possible.”

She scanned her tablet. “You have two meetings I could shift to next week. That only leaves two, and one is admin, the other the staff meeting.”

“I’ll sit out the staff one. Lawson and Anderson can handle it. I rarely say much.”

“Why is that?”

I was startled by her question. “They are much better handling, ah, people. I prefer to let them lead. I’m here to work, not be an active admin. I’m part of the decision-making behind the scenes, but I step back otherwise.”

“Hmm.”

I sat back, picking up my coffee. “What does hmm mean?”

“I think you’d be a good leader. You’re confident, smart, and fast-thinking.”

I tilted my head, studying her. Her hair was up today, a few wisps around her face, showing off her full cheeks. I could see the freckle band easily, and I was glad she didn’t try to cover them up.

“I don’t like most people, Myers. I can’t stand bullshit and playing games. Trust me, after a couple of HR issues, I was happy to let my partners be the front men.”

Her lips twitched. “I see.”

I scowled at her. “Back to business.” I pushed my coffee cup toward her. “Another cup.”

“Boring or foamy?” she teased.

I lifted a brow, and she left. That always seemed to shut her up.

At least in the office. It hadn’t on Saturday.

I had to admit, I was glad to see she was okay, aside from the slight limp. It had surprised me how much she was on my mind after I left her. I worried she wouldn’t be able to make herself something to eat. If her ankle was swelling more. If she needed anything. The urge to pick up the phone to check had been strong, but I resisted. I even thought of excuses to call her—to ask where a file was on the server, or if she remembered to order the 3-D printer supplies I would need this week—but I resisted. They were flimsy even to me, and I knew Myers was clever enough to see through them. I couldn’t let her think I cared.

She returned, carrying a coffee and setting it down.

“Foamy?” I asked with a frown.

“Oops.”

I rolled my eyes. “Leave it. I don’t want you to walk on your sore ankle unless needed.”

“How kind of you,” she murmured.

“Get back to work.”

She paused at the door. “Open or shut?”

“Leave it open. But make sure I’m not disturbed.”

“No problem.”