Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) (21 page)

“Well, that was quick,” he said. “Good. I like that.
Keep it up and you'll get a nice, fat tip at the end of the evening, kid.”

“Thank
you
,
sir,” the waiter said as he poured glasses of wine for myself and Brendan
before leaving us to peruse the menu.

Brendan held up his glass and clinked it against mine.
“To new beginnings and future potential,” he said with a smile.

“To…the future, and whatever it may hold,” I added as
I clinked my glass against
his
. “Now,” I
said, “before we get too far into this wine, let's cut to the chase. Why did
you bring me here? Tell me about this offer you've been hinting at making.”

He smiled. “Well, well, well, a true corporate shark,
aren't you? I like that. Well,
listen,
Lilah, I'll be honest. Your boss Asher is my biggest competitor. And, we've had
a rivalry going between us for years now. Somehow, despite all my best efforts,
he still has the edge over me.

“I've been…
monitoring
The Sinclair Agency for quite some time now. And, I know, due to some, uh,
research that I've done, that the recent massive success with the Harry Winston
watches was all because of you, Lilah.”

I looked up, surprised. “You know that?”

“I know a lot of things. But yes, I know that. I've
been studying your work, Lilah, and I've come to the conclusion that you're one
of the best. You have more potential in our field than almost anyone I’ve come
across. Where I am, where Asher is, you could be there yourself in a few years.
With the right guidance, of course.

“But the thing is, I don't believe Asher wants this
for you. I think he knows as well as I do how much potential you have, and I
think it concerns him. He doesn't want to lose clients to you should you decide
to venture out on your own. That would mean yet another rival to compete with.
So, he's gonna keep you where you are. Keep you where you're safe, where you're
not a threat to him. He doesn't want you to achieve your full potential.”

“And you do?” I asked coolly.

“Absolutely. If for no other reason than to rub it in
his
face. See? Brutal honesty.”

“So, what you're saying is that you want me to work
for you, instead of working for Asher or for myself?”

Brendan smiled. “That's exactly what I'm saying.”

I nodded, taking it all in. I was conflicted, for a
few reasons. One of which being the fact that above all else, Brendan Savage
was a bit of a pompous
ass
and that left
me
suspicious.
Another reason had to do
with the fact that
he
was telling me
exactly what he thought I wanted to hear, for
his
own purposes,
his
own end goal, whatever
that may be. But there was also that little voice saying that he was making
some pretty good points. Maybe Asher was scared of having another rival? Maybe
he didn't want me to reach my full potential.

But that didn't seem like the Asher I knew.

Still, I decided to hear out the details of Brendan's
offer. At least then I would know exactly what was on the table, exactly what
was at stake, and exactly what I was worth on the free market.

“Very well,” I said. “So, what can you give me that
Asher and The Sinclair Agency can't?”

He smiled, and with
that,
he began to make me an offer he expected I couldn't refuse.

CHAPTER 27

Asher

After a morning of intense Muay Thai training, I would
have thought I’d be less on edge. But when my phone rang, interrupting my
shower, annoyance bolted through me and in a fit of sudden
rage,
I seriously considered flinging the phone
across the room.
Clearly,
there was more
stress and frustration built up inside me than I had realized. Even an intense
sparring session hadn't been able to get it all out.

I took a breath, turned off the shower, and answered
the call instead of tossing the phone.

“Asher, who's this?”

“Morning, Asher, it's Matt Eaton, PI.”

“Ah.
Hi,
Matt.
Have you found something new?”

“Yeah. Me and the rest of the
city
that is.”

“What?”

“Do yourself a favor, Asher, and go look on page three
of today's
Times
. Do that, and then
tell me whether you still trust that bird in your office.”

“All right, give me a few. I'll call you back.”

“Sure.”

My heart began to pound. What the hell was he talking
about? Page three of today's
Times
?

I pressed an icon on the video
touch-screen
in my bathroom, and my driver's face showed up.

“
Yes,
sir?”
Alfred asked.

“Go pick up today's copy of
The Times
, will you? And, uh, pick up a fresh bottle of Glenfiddich
for me. I have a feeling I'm going to need it.”

“Certainly, sir.”

I turned off the screen and stepped back into the shower,
anxious to find out just what the private investigator had been talking about.
There was only one way to find
out,
though, since I didn’t have an online subscription to the paper.
And
that way involved waiting. I shook my head,
sighed, and turned on the faucet for the rain shower, grateful for the
temporary escape the relaxing heat from the water provided.

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting at the breakfast
table having a smoothie when Alfred returned with a copy of
The Times
and a bottle of whiskey. I
thanked him for his help, then asked him for a little privacy. My gut told me I
didn’t want anyone around when I saw what was on page three.

After he had closed the door behind him, I plucked up
enough courage to open the newspaper.

I almost wished I hadn't.

There, splayed out across half the page, was a
full-color
photo of Brendan Savage arm in arm
with Lilah who, I have to say, was dressed in an absolutely stunning gown. The
headline of the article the picture was attached to
said something about
the opening of a new restaurant in town owned
by a celebrity chef from France.

I wasn't interested in the article
itself,
though. All I could see was the image
of Lilah, arm in arm with my biggest rival who had the smuggest grin on his
face I'd ever seen. He had probably timed it just so that he'd walk past a
press photographer, knowing I’d see the photo.

I crumpled the newspaper into a ball and hurled it
across the room, shouting with rage as I did. With anger-quivering hands, I
picked up my phone, skimming through until I reached Lilah's number. My finger
hovered just above the screen, ready to press the dial key. I felt like
unleashing a tirade on her. How could she have done this to me? After
everything I'd done for her, after everything we'd been through together, done
together—she did
this?
 

I was about to hit dial, but then a different part of
my brain took
over
and held my finger
back.

“Wait,” the voice said—a voice that sounded almost
like Colonel Tanaka's. “There might be an explanation for this. As blatant as
it seems, there may be something else going on.”

I set the phone down on the table and leaned back in
the chair. My mindset wasn’t where it needed to be at the moment to talk
rationally to
Lilah,
so the best thing to
do would be to simply not speak to her. Not until I'd calmed down and maybe not
until I had a better idea of what was really going on.

Maybe it was time to have Matt start following Lilah.
I gave it some thought before I picked up my phone and dialed.

“Matt speaking,” he answered.

“Matt. It's Asher Sinclair.”

“You saw the paper. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Yeah, I saw it.”

“And now you want me to follow the girl, right?”

I
paused
and
stayed silent for a few moments as I considered my options. Whichever path I
chose, there would be no going back. My relationship with Lilah would not be
the same after this. Even if she never found out about it,
I
would know
about it.
I
would know what I'd done.

“Hello? So, you want me to investigate her or not?”

Matt needed an answer, and I gave him the only one I
could, the one that came straight from my heart.

“No. I don't want you to follow
her
. I don’t want you to tap
her
phone or investigate
her
.”

“Are you sure? Listen,
Mr.
Sinclair, it's my opinion, as a professional who's been in this business for
decades, that-”

“I don't care. I don't want you to follow her, and
that's the end of this discussion. Focus your attention on Brendan Savage and
his lackeys, and them alone. Leave Lilah out of this.”

“Yes, sir, but don't say I
didn't warn yo
u. When it all hits the fan,
don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Understood, Matt, loud and clear.”

“I'll update you if come up with any new dirt on
Savage.”

“Do that. Enjoy your Saturday.”

“It's just another working day for me, Sinclair. But I
appreciate the sentiment.”

“Just keep me posted,” I added.

“Will do.”

I put the phone down and stared at the wall in
silence. And then I
stared
at the whiskey
bottle for a good long while. I was seriously considering getting drunk, even
at that hour in the morning. It seemed like the only effective escape from the
horrible feelings plaguing me, the confusion I was wresting with.

But then, clear as a bell, I heard Colonel Tanaka's
voice in my head again.

“Drowning oneself in alcohol is the way of cowards, of
the weak. The truly strong face their challenges and fears with a clear mind
and a sword in hand.”

He was right.
I
was right, rather. I put the
bottle to the
side
and called up my Muay
Thai instructor.

“
Mr.
Sinclair?”
he said as he answered his phone. “Is something wrong?”

“I want another sparring session,” I said.

“Before next week? What day?”

“Now,” I responded.

“Right now? But we just had one. You were exhausted.”

“Not exhausted enough. I want to get back in the
ring.”

“Umm. All right. But don't you think you're pushing yourself
a bit too hard?”

“Who ever achieved anything by not pushing themselves
past their limits?”

“Good point. Luckily I stopped on the way home to grab
a coffee, so I'm not far away. I'll turn around. Wrap your hands, get your
gloves on, and warm yourself up. I'll see you in your gym in fifteen minutes.
I'm warning you, I'm not gonna go easy on you.”

“And, that's exactly how I want it.
Exactly
how
I want it.”

***

Come Monday morning, I was at work an hour before
everyone else, partly because there was a lot I needed to get done, but also
because I wanted to be there when Lilah walked in. You see, I'd locked her
office—I'd blame it on a mistake made by the cleaning lady, but she wouldn't be
able to avoid me. She'd have to come to me to get the master key, and then
she'd have to face me, after what she'd done behind my back.

I wanted to see if she would wear the guilt on her
face like a scar or cover it up completely, hide it with a sweet smile, and
pretend as if nothing had happened. Either way, I wanted to look her in the eye
and see what was there for myself. No more of the games, no more hiding, no
more avoiding one another.

I waited patiently as the clock struck the hour,
knowing she had to be in the building. Probably coming up in the elevator. I waited
for her to discover that her door was locked, go to my secretary and ask about
it, then be told that she'd have to come into my office and speak to me about
getting the key.

And then, there it was: a knock on my door. My pulse
quickened
.

“Come in,” I called out.

She walked through the door, and I locked a cool stare
with her eyes and held it.

“Lilah,” I said nonchalantly, “I hope you had a good
weekend.”

She looked away, unable to hold my gaze. Guilt
practically tattooed across her face.

“I… It wasn’t too bad,” she answered softly.

“Oh, really? Did you go anywhere? Meet up with anyone?
Try out any new places?”

“Can I just get the spare key, please?”

“You don't want to tell me about your weekend?”

She looked down at the floor in silence for a few moments.
Eventually, she looked up, and her face now wore a strange expression.

“You saw the picture in
The Times
, didn't you?”

“I did.”

She nodded. “I thought so. And yet you didn't message
me even once over the weekend.”

“Message you? Whatever for? I mean, I saw with my own
eyes who you're choosing to spend your time with these days. What would have
been the point in messaging you? You’ve been avoiding me for days.”

Anger heated my blood. I hadn't wanted to argue, but
it appeared that’s where the conversation was heading. Like an avalanche
crashing down a
mountainside.
If it
began, there would be no stopping it. I could almost feel Lilah's temper
heating up from across the room, as well. I knew things could get explosive but
despite realizing that, I couldn't stop myself.

“If you actually cared, you would have called me up.
You would have messaged me. Asked me about it. But you didn't. You waited to
ambush me this morning. And that silence told me more than your words and this
ambush ever could.”

“What?! How… How
dare
you?
You go out on the town with my biggest rival
—
whom, I might add, is the prime suspect behind the
break-in at this company
—
and don't say a
word about it to me, leaving it for me, and everyone else in this city, to
discover by opening up Saturday's issue of
The
Times
. And now you're trying to turn it around and make it all about how
I'm
the bad guy here?!
Like
I'm
the one who was at fault? I
can't believe this! I can't believe you'd have the audacity to even try to pull
that sort of bullshit on me!”

She stared at the ground again in silence.

“You're right,” she said softly.

I was shocked. I'd been expecting a vengeful, angry
response yelled at me at full volume. Not
that
.
I didn't know what to say.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you that Brendan was
after me. And when I say that, yes, I mean romantically and professionally, as
well. I had no right to keep it from you. It's just that…” her voice trailed
off as if she was trying to maintain her composure, trying not to cry.

“Just what, Lilah?” I asked, my tone calm.

“It’s just that I've been so confused, so uncertain
about everything…about this job, about my career, about you and me…” Her eyes
met mine, and I just wanted to jump across the desk and hold her. Tell her it
would be okay. But, I wasn’t so sure it would be.

She exhaled hard before she began again. “And now
this. This… It's all so… It's just been too much to handle, too much to
process, all right?

“Jesus, couldn't you just cut me a little slack? I've
been thrown into the deep end from the start, and it's just gotten deeper and
deeper! And now I'm at the point where I just don't know what's going on
anymore.”

“I'm sorry,” I murmured. “I don't know what to say.”

“I don't, either,” she replied softly. “I don't,
either.”

And with that, she turned on her heels, walked out,
and closed the door behind her. Without the key.