Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“That game was something else,” I finally said, keeping things light. “The way Miles made that final shot—I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it.”
Raina smiled, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. “He’s been focused on perfecting that move for months. I’ve heard him talk about it, but seeing it work in a real game…” She shook her head. “I nearly lost my voice screaming.”
“I noticed.” I smirked. “Pretty sure you deafened me in my left ear.”
She laughed, a genuine sound that warmed something in my chest. “You were just as loud.”
“Guilty.” I took a sip of coffee. “I’ve loved hockey since I was a kid. My dad used to take my brothers and me to games whenever he could. Some of my best memories are from those nights.”
“That’s sweet,” Raina said softly. “It’s nice that you have that.”
We talked a bit more—about the game, about sports in general, about nothing consequential. But I could see she was holding something back. There was a reservation in her eyes and a carefulness to her words that told me something else was on her mind.
When we’d both finished eating, she set her fork down and looked at me across the table. Her teeth worried her bottom lip.
“Simon… what is this?” she finally asked, indicating a hand between the two of us. “I need to understand where this is going. For you. For us.”
I set down my own fork, giving her my full attention. I considered my words carefully. She deserved honesty, even if I didn’t have all the answers.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I know it’s complicated, given our working relationship. But I don’t have any regrets about last night.” I held her gaze. “Do you?”
She shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t regret it. But I’m concerned about how this might affect things at work. You’re my boss, Simon. If this goes wrong…”
“It doesn’t have to affect anything. We’re adults. We can navigate this.” I said, my practical side emerging. “Besides, there’s no policy against dating coworkers. I should know. I helped write the employee handbook.”
Her lips twitched, but the concern didn’t leave her eyes.
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want this to happen again. I still want you, Raina. Last night wasn’t a one-time thing for me.”
She processed that for a moment before she rose and started clearing the table, and I stood to help her. We moved around each other in the small kitchen, rinsing plates in the sink, her putting away leftovers. The conversation continued in fragments.
“I just keep thinking about what happens if things end badly,” she said, not looking at me as she scraped the remaining casserole into a container. “If there’s conflict. If you decide you’re done with… whatever this is. Where does that leave me?”
I didn’t miss the worry in her voice, which I understood. “I’m not a complete asshole,” I teased, filling the sink with dish soap and water before turning more serious. “You actually hold all the cards here, Raina. I would never do anything to put your job in jeopardy. Your position is secure regardless of what happens between us.”
She turned on the faucet and started to wash the dishes. I leaned against the counter, watching her.
“That’s what I thought about my last boss,” she muttered, barely audible over the running water.
Regardless, I heard them and I realized, suddenly, that I knew almost nothing about what had happened at her previous job. Kurt had never told me the details, and I’d never asked. Not when she first interviewed, not after I’d hired her. She’d been so competent from day one that I hadn’t given her past much thought because it didn’t matter to me.
But clearly, whatever had happened still haunted her.
“Tell me what happened,” I said quietly.
Raina’s hands stilled in the soapy water. She glanced at me, surprise flickering across her features, then something else—a decision being made.
She turned off the faucet and dried her hands on a towel, then moved to lean against the counter across from me. The distance felt intentional, like she needed the space to share this.
I didn’t push. Didn’t move closer. Just waited.
“When I was hired at the advertising firm, I started at the bottom,” she began, her voice soft but steady. “But I worked my way up to executive assistant over time. I was so proud of that, you know, considering I didn’t have a degree. The first person I worked for in that position was great. She was hard-working and smart, the kind of woman I wanted to emulate.”
A faint smile touched her lips, self-deprecating and sad. I felt something tighten in my chest—the urge to protect her from whatever was coming next because I knew it couldn’t be good.
“But then she got a new job, and I was transferred to Mr. Hull.” The smile vanished completely. “He was… different.”