Page 34 of Lying to the Boss

And I guess that’s what sets him apart from all the other rich assholes I’ve met.

He’s never, not once, ever looked at me or spoken to me like I was less than him.

That’s it. That’s the thing that’s different about him. The thing I couldn’t put my finger on before. It’s just that simple. He doesn’t talk to me like I’m a piece of shit because I don’t have millions.

That… has me feeling differently toward him. Fondly.

And the sex is good.

No, it’s great.

I think about it often. I do wonder what it would be like to be bent over his desk… or hiding under it and choking on his cock while he’s in a virtual meeting.

I can’t help it. It’s like a fantasy of mine or something—being in public and about to get caught? Yeah, that’s kind of hot.

This is weird. I shouldn’t be thinking these things about him—I told myself I wouldn’t. But I can’t help it. He’s just—”

“Tage?”

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you like boba tea.”

“Boba tea?” I ask, then I laugh. A little too hard.

Lane stares at me, confused. “I don’t see why that’s funny.”

I wipe tears from my eyes. “You drinking boba tea?”

I laugh more, curling forward because what?

“I still don’t see what’s so funny.”

“Sorry, sorry,” I say, trying to get myself together.

“There are other options if you find boba tea too ridiculous,” he says seriously, which only makes me want to laugh more, but I try to keep myself together because now people are starting to stare. He doesn’t seem bothered by it. But I am. I don’t like causing attention.

I take a deep breath, letting it out. “Sorry, really. Boba tea is great. But they do have food, right?” I look around, trying to figure out which storefront he’s looking at.

“Yes, they have food.”

“Lead the way.” I gesture in front of us, and he points at the store we’re standing directly in front of.

“It’s literally right here.”

“Oh…”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. Seriously.” I pull the door open, and we step inside. It’s a mix of sweet and savory with a hint of floral. The place is small; a quick-eating type of place with a handful of small tables.

There is a short line, so we get into it and I look over the menu as we wait our turn to order.

I get a shrimp poke bowl, and he gets a sampler sushi plate. I get brown sugar boba tea, and he gets the strawberry. Thinking about him drinking something so… not him, still makes me want to laugh, but I keep it together because there are people eating and I don’t want to disturb them.

We sit together and eat our meal, making small talk about the office and the area. It feels too normal, and that’s making me uncomfortable. But then we’re done, and it’s time to go back to work.

Work is easy. Work I can do.