AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“True.” I shrug.
He walks straight into Mr. Mancini’s office, holding the door open for me. I think nothing of it until we step in and Mr. Mancini’s scathing eyes are pointed right at me. He’s standing off to the side near his bathroom so we couldn’t see him through his glass door, but now that we’re inside, I can see everything.
His shirt is open and it’s like a magnet—my gaze dips to his hard, muscular chest on full display.
Jesus, how is it possible to look that good?
“Is knocking no longer customary?” he asks, his fingers buttoning up his shirt.
Then I see that his slacks are unbuckled and hanging open.
“If I was less of a man, I’d feel self-conscious around you.” Billy grabs a soda out of the fridge and sits on the couch in the far corner of his office.
“Um… I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.” I swivel on my heels, my face heated to what I think might be the surface level temperature on Mercury. I’m getting a good idea of why the employee handbook has a strict no-fraternization rule.
“Not necessary, but next time maybe buzz me before just strolling in.”
I still don’t turn around, because there’s no way I can see him like that and not have the image playing on repeat tonight as I’m alone in my bed.
“He’s dressed now,” Billy says a moment later.
I turn around to find Enzo buckling his belt. How on Earth am I supposed to work in this environment?
“I dripped some coffee on my other shirt.”
I wave off his comment, wanting to move on, and sit on the couch across from the one Billy is seated on. Mr. Mancini sits on the far end of the couch and places a white shirt between us, closer to me than him. I glance at it.
“I use the downstairs cleaner for convenience.”
“That’s nice.” I poise my pen over my paper.
“No rush, since I have plenty.” He nudges it a little closer, and I wiggle over until I can’t go any farther.
“Are you asking me to take in your dry cleaning for you?”
“Oh, this is fun,” Billy chimes in, putting his feet up on the table and resting his arms on his belly.
“You are my assistant, are you not?” Mr. Mancini opens a folder on the table, not bothering to make eye contact with me.
“Just so you know, most assistants do not pick up dry cleaning,” I snipe.
“Since when?” He finally makes eye contact, but it’s fleeting.
“Since the nineteen-seventies.”
He looks at Billy, and he nods.
“Huh. No one’s ever told me that.”
I roll my eyes. “Not surprising.”
“What does that mean?” He leans back on the leather couch, his arm outstretched along the back, positioning himself as though we’re all buddies, sitting around and shooting the shit.
Billy chuckles, and my gaze shoots to him. I see we’re on the same page.
“You’re a good-looking guy. People tend to do things outside of the norm for you. To please you.”
A mischievous smile forms on his lips. “You think I’m good-looking?”
