My Dad's Boss(7)

I had one more thing to ask, but we were both distracted by an  electronic beep. The trunk of a car across the street popped open, and a  moment later a tall, thin figure jogged up to it, not noticing us as he  passed. I recognized the person at the same time I recognized the car.  Brad, getting something from his parents' dark blue Altima.

We watched as he pushed aside an assortment of suitcases and emerged  with a wrapped box with a bow. In a matter of seconds, he was going to  close the trunk, turn around, and see us.

And I just couldn't deal with him tonight. Not now. Not after it had  been such a good night. He's spent the whole week with his parents and  with Stephanie-Mrs. Harper had let that slip before-and I didn't want to  be his poor pathetic ex again. The girl who was cheated on. The girl  who lost her boyfriend and her best friend at the same time.

I took a step back and bumped into Nick. I'd almost forgotten him. I  looked up and saw that he'd recognized Brad, too. I tried to push past  him, to melt into the darkness between the two cars, but he was blocking  my way. He gripped my arm, looking into my face. And I'm not sure what  he saw there, but it couldn't be good. I didn't want to see Brad right  now. I didn't want to talk to him. And above all, I didn't want to have  to field any more questions about my supposed relationship with a man I  wasn't allowed to date.

And then I didn't have to, because Nick brought his hands up to my face,  cupping my head, tilting it up. And then he dipped his head and kissed  me.

For one endless moment I froze, paralyzed by surprise, but then I melted  under his kiss. Feeling me relax against him, Nick wrapped his arms  around me, and I responded in kind, looping my hands around his neck.

He slid his tongue along my warm lips and teased them apart, gently,  playfully at first. But as I clung to him, my fingers grasping at his  hair, he deepened the kiss. I gave myself over to the sensation, and  everything else faded. The party. The night air. Ex friends and  boyfriends. It all went away until the only thing that existed for me  was this incredible man.         

     



 

When he finally released me, I leaned against his car, panting.  Processing. Lifting my hand, I ran my fingers over my bottom lip,  feeling how swollen it was from his mouth on mine. Finally, I looked up  at him.

He had a faint smile on his lips. "I'll see you on Tuesday, Cassie."

I nodded, and he squeezed my hand as I walked past him, heading back toward the house. Brad was nowhere in sight.

One thing was for certain. No matter what happened, this was going to be one hell of an interesting part-time job.





Chapter Six





"WILL THIS DO for a workspace?"

I was in Nick's home beautiful home. I'd thought our house was big, but  his was even bigger. It seemed like a really large place for one person,  but I knew it used to be his parent's house.

"It's great," I said. He'd set aside an area for me at the end of his  formal dining room table. The large dining area seemed way too big for  one person, but I'd seen a smaller table in the kitchen when he'd given  me a tour. "Are there extra outlets nearby?"

Nick led me around to the other side of the table. A power strip was  hidden behind the scanner and printer he'd set up. There was also a  large monitor for me to plug my laptop into, file folders, paper,  scissors and everything else I could possibly need. He'd really gone all  out.

"And over here are a few of the boxes. I figured it was enough to get you started."

Five ancient-looking cardboard boxes sat in the corner of the room. The  top one had packs of photos in envelopes or rubber bands, but the rest  were unopened. "Yep, that ought to keep me busy."

"Good," he said, slapping his palms lightly against his thighs. He had  on blue jeans today and a short-sleeve t-shirt that said Key West on it.  "So, umm, there was something I wanted to talk to you about."

Uh-oh. That didn't sound good. But he was my employer now, so I responded cheerfully. "Sure, what's up?"

"Well, it's just us now. We don't have to pretend we don't know each  other in front of your parents or pretend we know each other really well  in front of your ex. So I was thinking we should start over. Start  fresh."

"What do you mean?" I said, and he gave me a half smile.

"I mean this," he said. "Here goes …  Hi, I'm Nick Conner, your dad's  boss." He stuck out his hand, reaching to shake mine. "And you're Cassie  Davis, my employee's daughter."

Automatically, I raised my hand to meet his, but then I pulled it at the  last moment. "That's a little patriarchal, don't you think?"

"What?"

"To define a woman by her male relative."

"That's not what I'm doing," he said, looking flustered.

But I was on a roll now. I was in college. I'd taken the Women's Studies  class. "If you want to define yourself by your relationship to your  employee, go right ahead. But I am an adult woman, independent of either  parent. So hi, nice to meet you. I'm Cassie Davis. I look forward to  working with you."

Now I did stick out my hand, and after a long moment, he shook it. "Nice  to meet you, Cassie. I'm, uhh, looking forward to working with you,  too."

Now that that was settled, I moved past him and started to set up my laptop.





* * *





"Nick?" I knocked at the open door to his office, feeling a little  strange to have been wandering around his house alone. But he told me to  come back if I needed anything.

Hearing his voice, I entered into the room, only to see that he was on  the phone. I hesitated, but he smiled at me and gestured to a chair in  front of his desk.

I looked around while he talked on the phone. His office was modern but  masculine-looking. The bookcases were made of dark wood, and the colors  scheme ran toward black, gray, and burgundy. His desk was huge, made of  some kind of dark wood-maybe cherry? He had two monitors set up, and he  was looking at one as he spoke. From his end of the conversation, I  gathered he was talking to the assistant principal.

His focus on his computer meant that I could look at him without getting  caught. I loved to watch him when he wasn't looking. He looked so  intent with what he was doing. His brow furrowed in little lines as he  frowned at something on the screen. The sprinkle of white hair at his  temples surrounded by the darker brown tousled hair around it made me  want to run my fingers through it.

He was typing on the keyboard now, his phone wedged against his  shoulder. He was all business as he tapped away, and somehow it was so  hot. I wanted to walk over there, shove his computer out of the way and  sit on his desk, facing him. I wanted to see if he would still look that  intent when it was me in front of him, not a machine.         

     



 

Finally, he disconnected the call. "What's up?" His smile made my thighs clench.

"I opened all those boxes you had downstairs, just to see what's in  them. Most of them are pictures, from the last couple decades. There are  a few of a cute little brown-haired boy," I said with a wink.

He laughed, leaning back in his chair and watching me. "Perhaps I should  have made you sign a nondisclosure agreement. I'm going to be very  unhappy if a photo of me dressed as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle  appears on the school's Facebook page."

I laughed. I knew he was kidding, but he was looking at me with a mock  sternness that I found very sexy. "Very unhappy," he repeated, and his  tone brought mind all kinds of delicious punishments he might dole out  if I disobeyed.

"Your secrets are safe with me," I said with a wink. Running my fingers through my hair, I stared right back at him.

His eyes were on my hand, on my hair, and if I wasn't very much  mistaken, also occasionally on the white tank top I wore on top of my  cutoff jean shorts. "One box had a bunch of old papers and letters. You  joked before about privacy, but it's a legitimate question. Do you want  to look through those things before I do?"

"No," he said. "But thanks for thinking of it. Nothing in there is  recent, and if you discover any skeletons in my relatives' closets, I'm  okay with that. Though as I said before, please don't go spreading my  family business around."

"Of course not."

"Do you have an idea of how you're going to organize that stuff?" We'd  spoken earlier about what he wanted, namely, a video of family  photographs like I'd made for my parents, and electronic copies of  important family records and documents.

"Well, I was thinking. I'd really like to know what all is there before I  dive in. For example, are those boxes the only ones with photos or are  there ten more? Are there more boxes of papers? I'd really like to see  the scope of the whole project before I figure out how to proceed."

"Fair enough," he said, and he stood up, stretching as he got to his  feet. Wow. Seeing him stretch was a sight I was going to be replaying in  my mind quite a bit.