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“Good morning, Ms. Viello.”
“Hey,” I said shortly, feeling like I couldn’t handle much else than that. Thankfully I made it to the elevator without any other company and then to my desk.
If wishes were fishes, I would just have a normal list of tasks for the day waiting for me and I could just pretend that I hadn’t been a complete and total moron. But of course, wishes would never be fishes, because there was only a single email with a perfunctory message.
Ms. Viello,
See me in my office ASAP
Shit.
I had ruined it all, hadn’t I? I had a good thing going and I had made it farther than anybody else had, then I had gone and ruined it because I was a stupid, tired idiot who had been so anxious about pleasing my boss that I hadn’t said no when I knew I needed to.
I allowed myself a moment to gather my composure. If I was going to be fired, I wasn’t going to go simpering or sobbing. No, I was going to hold my head high and let him know that he didn’t affect me.
Other than the whole kissing thing, but that was different. It had just been a moment of weakness and, like usual, letting down my walls was just going to get me in trouble.
I should have listened to my foster mother. The second one who had told me that even the strongest barriers would eventually crack. I had always thought that she was just overly sentimental and frustrated with my closed off nature, but I was beginning to think that she was right.
“Sir?” I asked as levelly as I could as I entered his office.
“Ah, Ms. Viello. Have a seat.”
My body went cold at those words. Nobody ever asked anybody to have a seat in front of their desk for good news. No, it was always bad news.
I was so getting fired.
He stood as I sat down, towering over me and reminding myself just how much bigger he was than me. And that was right about when I realized that there was actually another option. One that I had never thought of.
He could end up being a total creep about it.
I tried very hard not to have that revelation cross my face, but I couldn’t tell how successful I was. Mr. Fitzgerald just didn’t seem like that kind of guy. He was handsome, rich and successful; he could get anyone he wanted most likely and never have to be a creep at all.
But still, that was just me assuming, right?
Sometimes the worst people came in the prettiest packages. Maybe I was even more of an idiot than I thought. Maybe this was the moment where the curtain dropped, and he crossed a whole bunch of lines.
My stomach twisted at my idiocy. I knew better than this. Kissing my boss was definitely a power imbalance that only asked for trouble.
“So, I’m sure you know why you’re here.”
Oh God, oh God. Suddenly I found myself very much wanting to only be fired and nothing else.
“Obviously it would be more convenient if these things can be avoided entirely,” he continued, his low voice so enticing despite the awful words that I knew were going to come out of it. “But life is rarely so convenient. So, I believe an apology is in order.”
I opened my mouth automatically, ready to say whatever I needed to fix things, but then he kept right on talking.
“I believe that I misinterpreted the situation between us, and for that I am sorry. If you would like to be transferred to a different department, or manager, I will put that in immediately. If you’re no longer comfortable working here, I have several connections that would love to have you instead.”
I stared at him, eyes wide. “W-wait, what?”
He smiled ever so wanly at that. “I may be a demanding boss. And some may even call me a hard ass, but I’m not a predator. I’m not interested in pursuing someone that isn’t attracted to me, and I should have been much more cautious in our… interaction.”
“That’s nice and all but-” before I could really think about it, the words were tumbling out of my mouth. “The problem is I am attracted to you.”
His eyebrows went up at that and the serious expression on his face softened ever so slightly. But then he was looking at me like that again. The same way he had looked at me right before giving me a drop-dead amazing first kiss. Oh geez, there should have been a hazard warning around that kind of look.
“Well, if you’re attracted to me, and I am more than attracted to you, then what’s the problem?”
Wait, what!?
He was attracted to me?
My brain tried to wrap around the idea. He was a towering, absolutely ripped piece of very rich man-flesh and I was… well, me. Sure, I knew I was cute, and I knew that there was a good chunk of the population that liked plus size women like me. But those people weren’t like Mr. Fitzgerald. They weren’t mega-billionaires with a corporate empire who hung out with models, stars and other movers and shakers.
