Page 27 of My Favorite Boss

She grimaced. “Alexander, I think we need to talk. My office. Five minutes.”

And she walked out.

His gaze, wild and furious, met mine. “Again,” he snarled. “Again, you’ve caused me trouble that I have to try to explain.”

“While you’re thinking, maybe you could take your hands off my boobs?”

He tore them away as if they were on fire. But not before we both noticed how hard my nipples were. Or that his fingers had been caressing them the whole time.

“Why were you eating my sandwich?” I demanded.

“I was starving! You never finish it anyway.”

“And my coffee?”

“I needed a drink.”

“Why don’t you just admit you like my foamy coffees, as you call them, and I’ll make you your own?”

He glared at me and ran a hand through his hair. Which was still damp from the coffee. He growled in agitation, then turned and went into his office, no doubt to wash his hands before heading to HR.

The way the door slammed, I knew I’d have to knock next time.

By Thursday, I was tired and looking forward to the week being over. Bane had barely spoken to me since the coffee incident. I made a point of making him a foamy coffee at least once a day simply to prove a point. When he returned from seeing Jessica, he told me to forward him any dry-cleaning bills for “splashing” me. I sweetly told him I could get the stains out myself. He had grunted, whether in displeasure or acknowledgment, I wasn’t sure. His door-slamming overrode the sound of his grunt. What he and HR discussed, he never revealed.

I walked into the empty lounge and headed into the kitchen. Bane had the only office on this floor. He liked his privacy and being secluded, and apparently, what Bane wanted, Bane got.

The rest of the floor held a private boardroom, this kitchen, and the staff lounge. The other two partners had their offices on the floor below, along with accounting and the main boardroom. The rest of the staff was two floors down. Balanced Designs owned the rest of the building, which was sublet to various businesses.

I rinsed the mugs, muttering as I splashed some diluted coffee on my favorite blouse. I walked down to the bathroom, rinsing my hands and the spot on my cuff, then blotted it dry with a paper towel. I heard people in the lounge, but I wasn’t in the mood to be chipper and friendly today, so I decided to make the coffee for Bane and leave.

I measured out the coffee and began to pour the milk when I heard it. Some other women were now in the staff room. They were in the lounge area, so they couldn’t see me.

“Did you see the outfit she was wearing today? I swear she buys her clothes from my grandmother’s attic. Does she really think she looks good?”

I stiffened, recognizing Verity’s voice. I disliked her and her fake pleasantness. I had heard her rip other assistants apart, then smile when she saw them, pretending to be nice—exactly as I thought she would do. I avoided her and her little clique as much as possible.

“Seriously, she has no style. She struts around here like she owns the place just because she’s Bane’s assistant of the month,” she complained. “How she got that job is a mystery.”

“Probably on her knees,” her sidekick Rhonda said snidely. The other woman with them snickered.

I shut my eyes, shaking my head and continuing to make Bane’s coffee. I tried to ignore the fact that my hand was shaking a little.

“She’s on borrowed time. He never keeps anyone. I heard he’s already complaining about her,” one of them said with a snicker.

My head snapped up.

He was? I gripped the counter. Was this about the coffee thing? Was he that upset with me?

“Between her flippant attitude, her embarrassing wardrobe, and her looks, she won’t be around long,” Verity assured her. “Does she think covering herself in layers and lace hides how fat she is? Can you imagine what sort of getup she’ll wear to the awards banquet tomorrow? She’ll embarrass the entire company. He’ll fire her on Monday. If she lasts that long.”

I blinked at the sudden moisture in my eyes, then reminded myself to ignore them.

“I can’t stand her. She’s a joke,” Rhonda said. “Acting like she’s a big shot. Friends with all the little people—like that makes her better. Who cares about Pete or the cleaning woman?”

“She’s friends with them because she’s one of them. The nothings,” Verity spat. “I applied for that job. I should have gotten it. I have experience in the company, and I could be so useful to him.”

“Behind the desk or under it?” Rhonda asked.