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The dining roomtable has become my new sanctuary. Some nights, I’d probably be better off just staying at the office and working late there instead of coming back to Dixon’s. But I refuse to be that person, and I’d rather be comfortable than sitting at my desk. Even if the view there is better.
The last few days have been intense.
Max and I finally found our rhythm and have been working well together.
Workingbeing the key word there.
It didn’t hurt that he assigned one of the interns to me. Willow is a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old whose mother works in our payroll department. She’s willing to do whatever I need but doesn’t really know how to do anything just yet.
Hey, beggars can’t be choosers.
I can teach her what she doesn’t know. The problem with that is it actually takes more time than doing it myself. So, my days have been long. Like, really long. Even then, I still leave before Max each night.
He’s working so damn hard to get everyone in the organization on the same page, I think he may have slept in the office all week.
When I asked him what he was trying to do, he told me, “A winning team starts with a winning culture. And we don’t have either right now.”
It’s been days since our night in his guesthouse, and other than the hug we shared on Monday, he hasn’t touched me once. Neither of us has said a word about it either. If it weren’t for the way he watches me, I’d think I was insane and had imagined the whole thing.
But my imagination has never been that good, and those memories are vividly burned into my brain.
I’m not sure what I expected. This is my first go at a friends-with-benefits thing. But I guess I’m a little disappointed we haven’t managed to grab any time together this week. I’m not sure if he changed his mind. Or maybe it’s the whole boss/assistant thing that got to him. Either way, I think something must have gotten to him. I mean, what the hell? One day, he was eating me out on someone else’s bed, and the next, we were back to being coworkers. And I didn’t like it. Not one bit.
If Max is the sun at the center of his universe, when he shines his light down on you, it’s glowing and warm and feels so damn good, you want more. It only took me a few hours to figure that little nugget out. And I want more.
So here I sit at the massive black dining table with my laptop open as I finish up my to-do list. Max didn’t come into the office at all today. Just sent me a message saying he was going to work from home in the morning and had something personal to take care of in the afternoon. Kinda cold. Definitely formal. Nothing friendly about it.
I guess our boundaries have been reset.
He’s my boss, and I’m the assistant.
Maybe I should be glad that we managed to avoid the complications that would come with a workplace relationship. Even if it wasn’t supposed to be a real relationship. Maybe it’s better this way. And maybe, if I feed myself enough maybes, I’ll be able to cover up that tiny place in my heart that sighs a dreamy sigh at the idea of a real relationship with Max Kingston.
I figured there was no need to stay late on a Friday night if I could get the same thing done here. At least here I can take my bra off. And that’s exactly what I did when I got home.
Which brings me to now, sitting in my new sanctuary, wearing a red cami and pink cotton boxer shorts with tiny red hearts embroidered all over them, sans bra and panties. Because seriously, what’s the point?
Cinder decided to grace me with her presence tonight and has been batting a ball between her white paws under the table, providing me with a distraction every time she decides to bat my ankle instead. My cell phone vibrates against the table with an unfamiliar number, and butterflies take flight in my chest with hope. “Hello?”
The connection is bad, and the static hurts my ear before the call drops.
This is the second one of those I’ve gotten this week, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s got something to do with my dad. Maybe he just wants to hear my voice, like a bad hallmark movie or something. Maybe he’s regretting his choices.
Or maybe I’m seriously stretching, and it’s just a wrong number.
I shake myself from my runaway thoughts and catch Dixon walking into the room. Freshly showered, having just gotten home from practice, he stops dead in his tracks, and I check to make sure I don’t have a boob popping out or something.
Nope. All tucked in.
Here’s the thing, Dixon has seen me in a bikini. He’s seen a whole lot of my skin. So I have no idea what in the actual hell is up with this deer-in-the-headlights reaction I’m getting now. Dix shoves his hands in the pockets of his camo cargo shorts. “Hey, D. What are you doing home?”
“Working.” Then it dawns on me. “Oh shit. Did you want the house to yourself?” I close my laptop and start pulling my stuff together. “I can get out of here if you’ve got a date coming over.” I mean, I’ve never seen him with a girl, or a guy for that matter, but it’s only been a few weeks.
His long legs cross the room, and his big palm on my notebook halts my movement. “No. No date. I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie. We could order dinner.”
I straighten. “Sounds good. I ate dinner already, but I’m down for a movie. I need to call it a night on work anyway. It’s been a long week, and I feel like I haven’t stopped. But the inaugural event for the Start A Revolution Foundation is a go. I’ve got the location and the catering.” I tick off my list on my fingers and smile up at Dixon. “The band. The athletes for the auction. Thanks for your help with that, by the way. I’m working on donations for the silent auction and the guest list now. It’s really coming together.”
“D.” Dixon tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, and the world stands still as his pupils dilate.
