Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) (10 page)

“You let your guard down. In that moment of happiness,
you became so overwhelmed that you were weak! You totally your emotions get the
better of you,” I scolded myself in the mirror.

The battle was getting harder and harder to fight.
But, since the joy of my success had started to wear off, my logical, rational
mind started to make a strong comeback.

I couldn't do it. Not yet. I just couldn't.

I dropped my eyeliner into my makeup bag and picked up
my phone.

I knew what I had to do.

Hi, Asher. I hope you haven't left your place yet. I'm
really sorry, but I've suddenly started to feel a little under the weather. I
think it may have been the seafood I had earlier. I hate to do this, but I'm
going to have to call off drinks for the evening. Looks like I'm going to be
spending most of the weekend at home.

I sat down on the edge of my bathtub and put my head
in my hands. I wasn’t overly pleased with myself over what I had just done, but
sometimes you had to do unpleasant things to remain in control of yourself and
your feelings.

My phone buzzed a minute or two later. He had replied.

Oh no, Lilah, I'm really sorry to hear that. I could
come over to your place and just chill if that would be easier for you?

I typed out a quick reply, feeling terrible as I did,
but knowing that it had to be done.

Thanks for the offer, but it's fine—I really prefer to
be alone when I’m sick. See you on Monday.

And with that, I turned my phone off and started
running a bath.

CHAPTER 11

Asher

I'd been really looking forward to having a few drinks
with Lilah. Not because I had any expectations that a few drinks might loosen
our inhibitions and ultimately something would happen between us again, but
simply to enjoy her presence, her conversation, and the feeling of being myself
around her.

Not to mention, I did want to celebrate. Her Harry
Winston campaign ideas had performed phenomenally well, and I was incredibly
proud of her. It was kind of obvious that she was overwhelmed at her own
success and the excitement I’d seen in her eyes was something I'd wanted to
share with her.

Yet, despite her keenness in that moment, her
enthusiasm seemed to have not only faded, but disappeared entirely by the time
the evening rolled around.

I'd put on one of my favorite suits and had even
gotten my grandfather's cufflinks out. It had been as my butler was warming up
the Lamborghini for me that I got the message from Lilah cancelling our plans.

She'd claimed she was sick, but I had my doubts. It
felt far more like she was searching for an excuse to get out of the evening.
And while I wanted nothing more than to spend time with Lilah, I wasn't going
to sit at home and mope about it. In fact, I was going to take the Lamborghini
out regardless. And, I wasn't going to do it alone.

A man can only be rejected so many times before he
starts thinking of other options.

I took out my phone and started looking through my
contacts. One name immediately sprang out: Angeline. Twenty-three, blonde, and
drop-dead gorgeous.

She was a young actress who had just started to break
into Hollywood—and she had been very, very interested in me for quite some
time.I messaged her.

Hey, Angeline, it's been a while! How's everything? If
you're not busy tonight, I'm taking my Lamborghini out for a spin. I know how
much you like supercars, so if you're free, you're welcome to come along for a
drive.

I didn't have to wait very long for an answer; the
phone buzzed about ten seconds after I hit the send.

Hey, Asher! Awesome 2 hear from u! I'm IN!
 

I typed out a hasty reply.

Pick you up from your place in half an hour?

The reply arrived almost instantly.

Perfect! See u soon... u handsome devil ;)

I didn't smile. I simply straightened my tie in the
mirror and buzzed my butler.

“Sir?”

“Is the Lambo warmed up?”

“The engine is at optimal operating temperature, sir.”

“Good. I'm coming down.”

***

We were cruising along the Pacific Highway, enjoying
the drive. The moon was full, and to our left, the great Pacific was rolling in
and crashing against the cliffs below, looking like a great sea of mercury in
the bright silver light. I glanced across at Angeline, who smiled flirtatiously
at me. She was dressed in a flimsy, red cocktail dress that left little to the
imagination.

“Thanks for taking me out,” she said. “This is such a
gorgeous car.”

“It's one of my favorites in my collection,” I said.

“You got any music in it?”

“Music? You're supposed to be enjoying the sound of
that beautiful, Italian motor!” I joked.

“I know, I know,” she laughed, “but hey, I need
something with a beat!”

“There's a USB stick in the glove compartment that's
got a bunch of music on it. Stick that in and see if there's anything you like
on it. The list of tracks will come up on the media player display screen.”

“Cool.”

She reached into the glove compartment and took out
the USB, which she then plugged into the car's media system. She started
browsing through the tracks.

“The Razor's Edge? Who's that?” she asked, pausing on
the one band I hadn’t expected.

A sudden flush of uncomfortable heat rippled through
my body at the mention of the band. Immediately, thoughts of Lilah started to
run through my head.

“Um, they're just a band I liked as a teenager. I
don't even know why that's on there. Skip that, I don't feel like listening to
that stuff now.”

“Oh, all right. Wow, you've got a lot of jazz and
classical on here. Don't you have any new stuff? Skrillex? David Guetta?”

“Not really my cup of tea, I'm afraid.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Uh, if you want, you can go onto YouTube and play
music from there. This system is hooked up to the internet.”

“Oh, wow! Cool. I’m sure I'll find some tracks I like
there.”

As she searched YouTube for songs to play, a creeping
feeling of guilt and doubt started digging its claws into me, probing and
pulling beneath my skin. What was I doing? Why was I doing this? Was it some
cheap, petty attempt at revenge after being ditched by Lilah? Despite how
physically beautiful the woman next to me was, I couldn't say I was attracted
to her in any way other than the most basic of levels. And, try as I might, I
had not been able to get thoughts of Lilah out of my mind most of the night.
I’d been trying to fool myself, but continuing with this farce was pointless.

A quick assessment of the road ahead confirmed that it
was empty aside from us. Without warning, I yanked up the handbrake and spun
the car around in a one hundred eighty degree turn, smoking and screaming the
tires, and throwing Angeline violently back into her seat.

“Oh my God!” she shrieked, the blood draining from her
face with shock. “What the hell did you do that for?!”

“Sorry,” I said calmly and flatly. “I've just
remembered something extremely urgent at work that I absolutely have to get
back to. There's no way I can put it off any longer. Sorry for cutting the
evening off so quickly, but I have to do this.”

“I, uh… Well, all right then,” she said, clearly
upset.

We drove the remainder of the distance to her
apartment in silence. When I dropped her off, all she said was a listlessly
mumbled, “Bye.”

I didn't care. I shut the door behind her and roared
off toward home.

***

A dry, sticky mouth and a splitting headache aren’t
exactly the most pleasant ways to wake up. Drinking a ridiculous amount of
whiskey after I had returned from my failed attempt at a revenge date hadn’t
been the smartest idea I’d ever had. It had, however, calmed me down and
temporarily quieted all the warring thoughts in my mind.

I heaved myself out of bed and started to mentally
prepare for the morning's rigorous workout, after which I would head in to the
office. It was Saturday, yes, but I wanted to work. It would keep my mind
sharp, focused—and off certain things. A certain person, I suppose I should
have said.

 
I spent the
morning working out and sweating my hangover away, although, try as I might
with exercise, nutrition, and rehydration, the headache wouldn't go away. I
hated taking medication, and would only do it as a last resort—but at the
moment, it seemed as if popping a few headache pills was the only way I'd be
able to get any respite from the dull, persistent throbbing in my skull.

I asked my chauffeur to drive me in to the office as I
was in no mood to deal with the city traffic myself. Once there, I immediately
started getting to work on the new campaign for VIV Perfume—the project I'd met
with Anton about in France. This was going to be a challenge, as it would
require a lot of in-depth research into French markets and consumer behaviors
in the fields we were trying to market the perfume to. Luckily, exhaustive and
obsessive research was my thing—there was nothing like a good challenge to get
me going and get my mind mentally focus.

I managed to get several hours of solid research in
before my concentration started to falter. I stood from my desk, did a few stretches,
and then stood at the windows looking out over the expansive view of the city
that stretched to the edge of the horizon. The sun was sinking low in the sky,
but there were still a few hours of daylight left, so, I decided to go for a
walk and get a quick bite to eat before returning to the office.

As I was walking out of the building, my phone buzzed.
I took it out of my pocket and was surprised to see a message from Lilah. I
opened it and read it with eager eyes.

Hi, Asher. I just wanted to apologize about last
night. I'm sorry if I came off as being a bit defensive or standoffish. I just
wasn't feeling too great. However, I'm actually feeling a bit better now. What
are you up to?

A broad smile crept over my
face. Maybe she wasn’t as disinterested as I’d thought. Maybe she really had
been feeling bad the night before and I jumped to conclusions. Maybe. Only one
way to find out.
I typed out
a reply.

No worries. I'm glad to hear you're feeling better.
I'm actually at the office working on a new campaign, the one for the French
company VIV Perfume. You don't happen to know much about the French perfume
market, do you? I've been researching all afternoon and trying to brainstorm
ideas. Let me know if you have anything that might help save my brain. Hope
you're enjoying your Saturday!

 
I strolled
along the bustling streets, enjoying the hustle bustle of weekend pedestrian
traffic; it was strangely calming, this moving sea of strangers. After a few
minutes, I got a reply from Lilah.

As it so happens, one of my college friends has been
living in Paris for the last five years, and she works in the fashion industry.
I'm sure there's a good crossover with the perfume market somewhere in there—I
could arrange a Skype conference call with her, if you'd like? We could pick
her brain and probably gain some valuable insight into the market. What do you
think? I can come in to the office later; I don't have any plans.

My smile broadened as I read her reply. Hopeful
optimism, coupled with inspiration, began spreading throughout my body.

“Well, suddenly this weekend isn't looking so bad
after all,” I said to myself. “Not looking too bad at all.”

I responded with:

I'll be at the office all afternoon and evening. Come
on in whenever you're ready. See you later :)

CHAPTER 12

Lilah

Some of the guilt I'd been feeling since the previous
evening began to alleviate. Even though I’d tried, I hadn't been able to shake
the feeling I had acted, quite frankly, a little selfish and had let my own
fears get in the way the night before—characteristics that were usually alien
to me.

I'd made assumptions about Asher's motivation for
taking me out to celebrate. It was an immature move and after some thought and
an evening of beating myself up over it, I decided I had been too harsh on him.
I mean, did I really expect him to buy the lame ass excuse about not feeling
well?

My guilty conscience was wreaking havoc on me. I had
to not only make it up to him, but give him a chance to prove that his wanting
to spend time with me was not solely motivated by a desire to replay the
drunken evening that ended with more than a handshake between colleagues. He
deserved the change to prove me wrong out of professional respect, and as a
friend.

Of course, I couldn't deny the chemistry was there
between us—but to reduce his desire to spend time with me to solely that,
seemed like I had been blowing things a little out of proportion.

And that is why I texted him and opened up the option
to spend time with him—with the pretext being that of a professional context—although
it wouldn’t be a typical day at the office since we'd be the only ones there.

He'd come across as rather eager to follow up on my
suggestion of Skyping my friend Alicia in Paris, so, as soon as I finished
reading his reply, I sent her a message asking if she was available to chat in
a couple of hours. When she responded that she was, I started to get ready to
go in to the office.

***

It was late in the evening when I walked into the
building. It was weird being there on a weekend. The space which was normally
bustling with activity and crowded with people was empty and most of the lights
were out. It was almost like being in an entirely different building. I went
straight through to Asher's office and knocked on the door.

“Lilah?” came a muffled but familiar voice from
within.

I pushed the door open a little and stuck my head in.
“Hi, Asher,” I replied.

“Come on in,” he insisted.

I complied. Asher was sitting in his chair, leaning
back with his hands behind his head and his feet up on his desk. I couldn't
help but laugh.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” I asked with a
cheeky grin.

“Hey, I'm not a machine,” he replied, “even though I'm
not far off from one! I've gotta kick back sometime, you know.”

“I see this. The man isn’t quite the myth the buzz
around town makes you out to be, huh?” I chuckled. “I'm just kidding.”

“I know, I know. Come on in, have a seat.”

I walked in and took a seat across from him, staring
over his huge desk at him for a few moments before speaking. The subtle light
of his office only enhanced how attractive he was. I was finding it hard to
keep my eyes off of him.

“So, your friend in Paris is all ready to have a chat
with us, right?”

“She is. She's waiting for us right now, actually.”

“Well, then, let's not keep her waiting any longer,
shall we? Let me fire up the projector and the quadrophonic sound system. You
brought your notebook, right?” he said, eyeing the carrying case I had placed
in my lap. “Just hook it up to these cables, and we can get things rolling.”

We proceeded to make the call and chatted with Alicia
for nearly an hour, taking notes as she responded to our questions. At the end
of the call, Asher asked her for her address.

“I'm going to arrange a little something to be sent to
you as a thank you gift for everything you've helped us with,” he said.

“Thanks so much! That’s very kind of you,” Alicia
replied after giving him her address. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr.
Sinclair, and it was great to catch up with you, Lilah,” she said to me. “Call
me soon. You still need to come visit!”

“I will do that. Thanks again for your help, Ali.
Bye,” I said, and then we cut off the call.

“Well, well, well,” Asher gushed. “That was some
excellent insight into the market there. I think we've got a lot we can work
with—although plenty of research is still going to have to be done to really
get into the meat and bones of this. Still, we've got plenty of time to work on
it. I'm hoping you'll be able to do as stellar a job on this project as you
managed to do on the last one.”

“I'm hoping so, too.”

“All right, well, let's type up all the info we got
from your very helpful friend. I'll create a Google Document so that we can
both edit it in real time from anywhere. We can add whatever other pointers we
pick up from our research and keep fleshing it out over the next couple of
days.”

“I don't know about you, since you’ve apparently been
here most of the day, but I've still got plenty of energy left. I feel up to
doing a little research right now, actually.”

He smiled. “Wow. Someone who can match me step for
step in the race, huh? Sure, if you're inspired, I am, too. Let's get on this
then.”

We got stuck in and researched the markets on our
respective computers for the next couple of hours. Eventually, we both started
to show signs of running low on energy. Asher was the first to call it quits.

“Well, that's about it for the evening for me, I
think,” he commented. “We've got a ton of data now.”

I stood and stretched.

“That was a productive session,” I said. “I'm already
getting some pretty solid ideas on what I can do with this.”

“Excellent! But for now, let's forget about it for a
while. I mean, it's already after nine on a Saturday evening, and here we are
sitting in the office we already spend most of our time at during the week. Jeez,
I haven't even eaten dinner yet.”

“You know,” I said, not sure why I was suggesting
this, but it just seemed right at the time, “I've got a ridiculous amount of
Indian food left over from lunch at my place. Some friends came around to eat,
but we ended up doing more talking than eating. We could head there, heat it up
in the microwave, and maybe watch a movie to wind down from all this work if
you’re up for it.”

“That sounds great. I'm starving. I could eat right
now!”

I laughed. “I guess it works out then. I’m ready when
you are.”

“Great. I'll just shut down everything here, and I'll
meet you at your place.”

I asked if he remembered my address, which he did, and
then I headed out of Asher’s office with a goofy smile on my face that I hoped
he hadn’t seen.

***

After Asher finished off the last of the tikka masala,
he sighed appreciatively and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.

“That was fantastic,” he said. “Really hit the spot.
Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you. There’s no way I could have
eaten all of that myself. It was good, though, wasn’t it?” I agreed as I ate
the last of my naan bread. “I should eat at that place more often. The food is
just divine. And the service is fantastic, too.”

“Well, what shall we do now, Lilah? I can head home if
you're feeling tired. It was a pretty long evening.”

“Actually, I'm still wide awake. Still bursting with
energy, really. I think I slept in too long this morning. Or maybe my mind is
still kind of wired. I don't know how I'm going to get any sleep tonight.”

“So, you don't mind if I hang around for a while?”

“I’d actually enjoy the company. So, by all means,
stick around for a bit. I don't have any plans this evening, anyway.”

I tried not to overanalyze if inviting Asher to stick
around was a particularly good idea or not. We'd been enjoying light, easy
conversation all through dinner, and, as much as I hated to admit it to myself,
that at ease feeling I’d had the first time we went to dinner was still there.
In fact, I was comfortable in his presence in a way that I hadn't been with
anyone else for longer than I could remember.

There was also the fact that neither of us had
suggested drinking—and I certainly wasn't going to bring it up—so it seemed
things were safe for the time beings.

“Would you like some chai tea?” I asked him. “I
usually have a cup every evening.”

“Sure. Sounds good,” he said with a smile. “I do enjoy
a good cup of chai.”

I made my way to the counter and started brewing the
chai as we continued talking. If I were to have guessed, it seemed that Asher
was just as much at ease as I was.

Somehow, as we were drinking the tea, the conversation
turned to family matters—a subject I had previously touched on briefly with
him, but that he had yet to open up about. A strange look crossed his face as
we broached the topic. A flicker of something I couldn’t quite place—anger,
regret, or merely pain, perhaps. However, as quickly as it appeared it was
gone. I wondered if it was a good idea to continue with the topic of family
considering how private Asher always seemed to be, but curiosity edged me on.

“So, Asher, there's something that I've been wondering
for a while,” I said. “I’m curious, control of The Sinclair Agency was given to
you when you were twenty, right?”

“That's right.”

“Why did it go straight from your grandfather to you
instead of to your father?”

His face tightened and he looked away. I could tell it
was a sensitive subject, and I quickly started to regret asking the question.

“I apologize, I’m prying, and I shouldn’t have asked,”
I said hurriedly. “It's not important. I'm sorry, let's just forget-”

“You're right. It's not a subject I'm entirely
comfortable talking about, but it's a subject I do actually
need
to talk
about, as unpleasant as it is. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. It does me
no good to keep these things bottled up inside.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we really don't have to discuss
this.”

He looked up at me with an intense look simmering in
his eyes. A look that churned every emotion inside of me.

“
Actually,
I’m
not sure. But I want to talk about it with someone I feel I can trust, and I do
feel like I can trust you, Lilah.”

His words seeped into my soul and warmed parts of me
I’d forgotten about. I smiled faintly as I sipped on my tea and he began to
speak in a slow, calm tone. I could
sense
he was doing his best to keep things together and remain collected. The story
was obviously stirring some deep-seated, emotional pain but, despite
that
, I could also feel that he needed this,
that he needed a little catharsis from
the
pain.

“My father… Well, he’s not what I would call a good
man,” he
stated
. “He
was
a drunk,
and
he
was
violent. I was too young when
everything
happened to remember, but what my
father did is why I don’t have a relationship with him. It’s why my grandfather
took me in and raised me.
That's why I always looked to my grandfather
for
inspiration.
I modeled myself after
his example when I was growing up. He was everything my father wasn't—good,
noble, disciplined, hard working.”

Asher paused and took a breath. I tried to wrap my
mind around all he was saying. I couldn’t help wondering what Asher’s father
had done to cause him the chance to have a relationship with his son. As my
mind was spinning with the possibilities, Asher continued his story.

“My grandfather grew up as the ninth child in a large,
dirt-poor family of immigrants. When
he
and his family came to the United States, they literally had
nothing but the clothes on their backs
. And as
the youngest of nine children, my grandfather rarely had
anyhing
but hand-me-downs from his siblings.

“
But, this instilled a
sense of ambition in him. He was absolutely determined to build an empire, to
rise high above his humble beginnings.
And, he did. He joined the army
during the Second World War, rose through the ranks, and left the army as a war
hero. Then, he started The Sinclair Agency and, through sheer grit and
determination, he turned it from a
two
-man
operation run out of a single,
run-down
,
rented office in a
slum
into one of the
greatest marketing firms in this city.

“He got married young. They wanted a big
family,
but having children proved difficult
for him and my grandmother. In the end, after many years of trying, they
finally had a child—my father. My grandmother considered it a miracle after all
that they’d been through.

“As an only child,
she
spoiled
him
. He had little to no
discipline at home because my grandfather was so obsessed with his work and
always at the
office
or flying off
somewhere on business—his only failing, I think—but a failing that turned out
to have significant consequences.