I wolfed down my food, hungrier than expected, unable to keep my eyes from coveting her pasta. She munched on hers, not eating with her normal gusto.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She pushed her plate away, her eyes downcast. “She didn’t know who I was.”
“I don’t talk about my personal life with my staff.” I hadn’t had much of a personal life before summer started.
“Your assistant—what’s his name?”
“Matthew.”
“Yeah, Matthew. He was leaving for lunch and Mrs. Silverstein asked him if you’d ever mentioned me.” She folded her hands in her lap, looking more solemn than I’d ever seen. “What are we?”
“We’re…us.” My food turned to lead in my gut. Hot, savory food that she’d cooked just for me. Then brought here and gotten deeply insulted for the trouble.
Her gray gaze lifted to mine. “What is ‘us’? Are you still ashamed of me?”
I failed her. I failed her hard. All I had to do was mention to either Matthew or Mrs. Silverstein that I was dating someone and they wouldn’t have given Tilly such a hard time. I got down on my knees and crept toward her. She didn’t move, but she didn’t reach for me.
“Tilly, before you, I had no one to talk about. I made sure I had no one to talk about. My focus has been on this company and keeping it thriving. This relationship is new territory for me.”
“You still didn’t answer.” She stroked my cheek, her look sober. “Are you ashamed of me?”
I recalled my first thought after she’d arrived. Wacky Monday. It was a reflex, an echo of me before I was the lucky bastard that got to know her. “Of course not. I’m a private man.”
“I don’t want to be your Crazy J again.” Her hand trembled. This was upsetting her.
I wasn’t ashamed of her; I was ashamed of myself for not being strong enough, thoughtful enough, to keep her from feeling this way. I dragged her to the edge of her chair and closer to me. “Hey. It turns out my Crazy J was a pretty phenomenal girl and I was an ignorant idiot.”
She softened under my touch. “Are you sure this was okay?”
“Yes.” I kissed her forehead, then her cheek. “I’ll check my schedule and you can bring me lunch whenever I don’t have a meeting.” I made my way to her lips.
She kissed me back and I couldn’t keep myself from deepening the kiss. I swept my tongue along the seam of her mouth until she opened for me. Yes. Blood raged through my veins, careening to my groin.
I wanted her naked, and I wanted her now.
“Flynn,” she murmured. “We can’t do this in your office.”
“I’m the boss.” I tugged at her waistband.
She looked around. My windows filled an entire wall on two sides and were reflective enough that no one could see in.
While she was deciding, I freed my shaft and dug out protection—so I was ready if she said yes. For good measure, I flung my tie over my shoulder.
She turned her bright gaze on me. That was what I wanted to see. Excitement and desire instead of shame.
“You’re so hot,” she growled and yanked me toward her by the shirt.
I couldn’t tell her, or anyone else in words, what she meant to me, but I proceeded to show her while she opened me up to the possibilities of office sex.
Tilly
I veered around my room. “Pants. Pants. Pants.” Hanging with Flynn all weekend had left me low on laundry, but I hadn’t wanted to miss one second of the positions we’d come up with in his hot tub.
Coming back to my house after a weekend at his bachelor pad was like zooming out 200 percent. My rental had never seemed small before. When I showered at Flynn’s, it was certainly noticeable when I forgot to get a towel ready. In my place, all I had to do was lean out and grab it off the rack. I could also courtesy flush the toilet from anywhere in the bathroom. At Flynn’s place, his toilet had its own freaking room.
It was fun for a weekend. Living the high life. With Flynn.
I dug through my dirty laundry basket. My khaki slacks were rumpled, but they’d smooth out in this humidity. I gave them a sniff.
Meh, good enough. Only me and Charlie had to suffer through them for an hour. And maybe they’d repel his dad.
I sped to the Woods’ place and parked in my usual spot. Rushing to the door, I hummed to myself. A tendril of anxiety crept through the warm sun and cool breeze, unsettling the euphoria from my weekend.
I knocked on the door.
And waited.
And waited. Any longer and I’d be officially late. Not good in Mrs. Woods’s eyes, who wouldn’t listen to the “no one answered the door for me” excuse.
Berta finally opened. Her expression was the most serious I had ever seen and she wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“Berta? What’s wrong?” I was about to step forward and embrace the woman. Sadness emanated from her so strongly, it was like the sun had dimmed a few thousand watts.
Berta shook her head. Mr. Woods appeared behind the woman, his face stern, his suit buttoned, and not a hair out of place.
“Tilly. You won’t be needed today.”
Berta let out a strangled cry and shoved away from us. I peered after her, then cast a questioning look at Mr. Woods.
“Did something happen? Is Charlie okay?”
He rose another inch as if lording over me. “You of all people should know that answer.” I cocked my head, opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but he talked over me. “Your services won’t be needed here any longer. You’re fired, Miss Johnson.”
“What? Why?”
The door slammed in my face. I jumped back lest it hit my nose.
Fired?
The first feeling that emerged beyond confusion was relief. No more Mrs. Woods.
Then shame flooded me. No
