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He stared at her in surprise. “How did you know? I hoped our inability to agree was kept quiet for now until I get more support on the proposal. Did you see the new health report? Too many kids still think it’s not like smoking a cigarette.”

She rolled her eyes. “Jonathan, he’s pissed off you’re going for governor. He’ll do his best to stifle you on every idea you have until you win the election. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize.”

He tilted his head as if analyzing her words. “I knew he was temperamental, but I figured we’d gotten past that hump. He backed me on the limitations for soda in the vending machines.”

“Only because Henderson wanted it. Not you.”

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered under his breath. “I think you’re right.”

“You should mention it during the Healthy New York run next week. Get it more on your radar.”

“I will. I’m going to make sure we have better awareness programs in the schools, too.” He paused, and she felt his gaze boring into her. “How was your day?”

“Productive.” She rattled off everything she’d accomplished like a well-oiled machine. “Tomorrow, I think I want to change your agenda for the⁠—”

“Alyssa.”

Her name was a command and a question, spoken in that low, silky voice that caressed her nerve endings. She fought a shiver. “Yes?”

“I didn’t mean work. I meant how you were feeling. I’d like to say we’re officially off the clock and out of the office. What did you have for lunch? Did you sleep well? Anything interesting happen?”

A rare smile tugged at her lips. His inquiries were sweet. When was the last time anyone had asked her any boring questions about her day? Certainly, never her parents. She had no other family. And her friends were all co-workers, where she’d occasionally meet for a drink at the bar and listen to them bitch about work and target the single men. She ended up going home early while they stayed to party and hook up. She never really felt like she fit in with any group, so she’d decided she didn’t need one at all. She refused to apologize for being a misfit. It suited her.

“Well, I read the new Malcolm Gladwell book for an hour, then used this lotion that’s supposed to encourage a deeper REM sleep, which will end up giving me more energy for less sleep if it works out. Smells a bit funky, and it’s purple, but I’ll give it a thirty-day trial run.” She glanced at him to check his boredom level, but he was looking at her with an eagerness she didn’t think he could fake. Might as well finish. “I had a Caesar salad at my desk with a green smoothie, so I’d say my free radicals are burning up nicely, and I did a quick walk over in the park to get to my ten thousand steps.” Health was important to her. The body was a machine, and she made sure to take care of it so it provided her with the fuel needed to function and flourish. “That’s about it.”

Ugh, she’d rambled again, but honestly, this was her life. He might as well realize she wasn’t suddenly going to become more exciting just because she was dating him. She squared her shoulders, already defensive, but he nodded with interest. “Does the cream have lavender in it? I heard that’s very soothing.”

“Yes. Lavender, almond oil, cocoa butter, and oatmeal.”

“Let me know if it works. I’ve tried melatonin and some nerve tonic, and nothing’s done it for me.”

“You have insomnia?”

His lips quirked. “I have public figure persona. It means I never sleep an entire night without waking up to stare at the ceiling and go over the million ways I can fail.”

She tilted her head. “What about the million ways you make a difference?”

“I’m only on number three, so I have more work in that category.”

A sigh escaped. “You’re always too hard on yourself.”

“That’s my job, too. Making sure no one else has to police me,” he said.

“Another reason I wanted to work with you. It’s more than a job being your assistant. It’s…fulfilling.”

He stared at her, his gaze delving deep, an intent light in those ocean depths. “That’s probably the highest compliment you’ve given me. But I wonder if you know how much you’ve done, not only for the office but also for me. I don’t even think of you as an assistant. You’re more like my partner.”

She jerked slightly, his words slamming through her like a sucker punch. Partner? The intimate word stretched and settled between them, sparking the silence, but before she could analyze how she felt, the car pulled up to the curb.

The restaurant was low-key and intimate, and they were swept in and seated toward the back. One bodyguard stood discreetly away at a distance, but close enough to deal with any trouble. The owner came out to fuss, and after ordering some wine, they both agreed to order a few plates and share so they could taste a variety.

It dawned on her how much he really did know about her. Her likes and dislikes. Her hatred of iced tea and coffee and how she preferred both in heated form. Her secret love of dark chocolate and how she ate exactly one Dove bar per day, kept locked in the right-hand drawer of her desk. And he knew they both adored anything Italian, choosing to order in penne ala vodka and chicken parm on some awful, draining days, not caring about carbs or diet or that there wasn’t a salad in sight.

She shook off her thoughts. Whatever they were doing here together—whether this was a real date or they were just figuring out if they were brave enough to try—it was a precious opportunity to know him more after the doors had closed. She wasn’t about to waste it, so she dove in hard, not afraid to swim in the deep waters.

“When was your last relationship?” she asked. She might know the basics from an outsider’s perspective, but she wanted the details and truth only he could give her.

He buttered a piece of bread, completely poised. “You mean sexually? Or romantically?”