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Every muscle in my body tensed. Of course she’d just come out and ask me. She was a Davis. Her dad would have done the exact same thing, but he wouldn’t have added the alternative of am I crazy or. This was a good time to temper things. To apologize and tell her I had gone too far in trying to not show her favoritism. It would have even been a version of the truth, though she would think the favoritism was due to her dad rather than this overwhelming and unwanted attraction I felt for her. But I didn’t do that. Instead, I doubled down.
“I’m not mad at you, Layla.” With difficulty, I tried to cloak the truth with a patronizing tone. “I’m your boss while we’re in the office, not a family friend.”
“No, of course, but—” she frowned and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re everyone’s boss here, right? But you’re friendly with them. And with me you’re…” she shrugged a shoulder and tilted her head, “terse.”
I stared down at her, unable to dispute it. She walked to the bottom stair and looked up at me. “Is it something I did?”
She knew it wasn’t. I couldn’t shake the feeling she knew everything, and I wasn’t doing myself any favors by continuing this charade. But I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors by admitting the truth either. Jack abhorred violence, but he’d castrate me if I touched his daughter. Resolved, I walked down the stairs, careful to keep as much space between us as I could when I passed her at the bottom. “If you feel like I’m treating you unfairly—”
“No, not unfairly.” Layla shook her head and I caught the scent of her shampoo. Almond and vanilla. “Just differently, and I wish you’d tell me why.”
Her blue gaze was direct, a hint of the challenge still remained. God, I was tempted to take her up on it. Again, the urge to grab her and pull her against me swept over me, so visceral I could feel her soft breasts against my chest, the denim pockets of her jean shorts rough against my hands as I gripped her—
“I have told you,” I said, my voice less a snap and more a strangulation. “I need you to stop thinking of me as your dad’s friend and start thinking of me as your boss or this isn’t going to work out.” I brushed past her and headed for the stairwell. I had to get away from her now. But I couldn’t help looking back at her one last time before I turned the corner. She had turned to watch me go, but she was still standing by the bottom of the stairs, her arms crossed. I had a feeling my outburst had had the opposite effect.
Now she knew there was something going on.
“Just so you know,” she said when our gazes clashed, “You were always more than just my dad’s best friend.”
CHAPTER11
LAYLA
Imet Liv and Bran at a bar close to Cross Media twenty minutes after my baffling confrontation with Aiden. After he left, the heavy stairwell door thunking behind him, I’d sat down at my desk, overwhelmed. He had been so agitated. It had vibrated in his body, wound his voice up so tight it was nearly unrecognizable. And he hadn’t been able to tell me why. His answers were bullshit, and I didn’t need my minor in Psych to tell me that. Every woman knew that when a man looked at her like that, he either hated her or wanted her and couldn’t have her.
And Aiden had no reason to hate me.
Since both Liv and Bran knew my feelings for Aiden, I decided to put this situation before them. I wouldn’t put much stock in my little brother’s advice normally, but he had intuited what I thought I’d so carefully guarded. And Liv was sure to tell me to do the most sensible thing possible, which was exactly what I needed to hear right now.
At the bar, over our first round of beers, I took a deep breath.
“Oh shit,” Bran said, displaying that uncanny, and unwelcome, intuition again. “She’s going to talk about…” he leaned in over the gleaming mahogany tabletop, putting his hand down in a circle of condensation, “...herboss.”
Dramatic effect achieved, he pulled back and wiped his hand off on a bar napkin.
I was grateful for the dim lighting because I had a feeling my cheeks were flushed for reasons that had nothing to do with the brisk walk over here.
“Is that true?” Liv asked. “Is there an Aiden update?”
I winced and looked around, but no one from the office was in sight. “It’s not an update exactly,” I muttered, leaning in like Bran had done. “It’s more a conundrum.”
“To bang or not to bang, that is the question.”
“Shut up Bran.”
“Donotbang,” Liv said immediately, as I knew she would. “That can only end in tears. And unemployment.”
I happened to agree, but the problem was, tears weren’t a strong enough deterrent. I looked at Bran.
He surprised me by making a face, jerking his shoulder, and saying, “Do what you want, I guess.”
“Um, no, because what she wants is yourdad’sbest friend.”
“Okay?” Bran spread his hands out, palm up. “So what? Everyone is someone’s best friend–you can’t make them all off limits.”
“So he’s like seventeen years older than me,” I said because someone had to.
“Who cares about age once you’re both consenting adults?”
