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KATIE
Everyone handles crushes differently. Some people confidently approach the object of their affections and try to romance them.
Me, I took to writing about mine. Mainly, because the object of my affection is my sexy boss, Michael Morgan. He’s older than me…by like a lot. He’s richer than me…by like a lot. He’s everything I shouldn’t want…but do.
So, I’ve turned my little fantasies about him into dirty stories. I publish them on the internet under a pen name. I have millions of readers around the globe, eagerly waiting for the next installment of my naughty series, Dirty Contract.
I spend my lunch breaks secretly writing, typing about the filthy things I want him to do to me. The things I want to do to him.
Meanwhile, he sits across the hall in his office with the door open. He doesn’t have a clue that in my mind he’s pushing me up against his desk and having his wicked way with me.
But today is different because it’s Friday. Friday means he’ll go for a long lunch to spend time with his daughter.
He pauses in front of my desk. He’s dressed the same as he is every day in a fitted black button down with dark slacks. “Are you working through lunch again, Ms. Hunter?”
His rectangular glasses frame blue eyes that never seem to miss a detail when he looks at me. If there was an edition of GQ dedicated solely to the silver fox, Michael Morgan would grace the cover.
I minimize the next installment, not willing to let him discover my secret lunchtime project. “Someone has to keep this place running, Mr. Morgan.”
“Remind me to give you a raise.” He starts toward the office door then pauses and turns back to me with a sheepish expression. “The Wagner Contract.”
I give him a longsuffering sigh because I like teasing him. “You lost it in your inbox. Send it again.”
Michael loves his work, but he hates the details like keeping track of the documents, dates, and other vital information. The man is hopeless when it comes to that stuff. I’m forever giving him reminders and making sure he shows up on time for his appointments.
He frowns. “It’s only the second time this week.”
“Third,” I say in a sing-song voice. I pull up my email while glancing at him. “Better make sure your head is sewn on tight. You have the masquerade tomorrow night.”
He scowls at me. “That’s why I have you to accompany me. Best assistant on the East Coast.”
“And Atlas,” I quickly point out. His daughter will also be with us. It’s a relief in a way because it keeps me from imagining the fancy event as a date.
He nods. “Do you have that research for me?”
I pull the blue folder from my tidy desk and hand it to him. It’s a list of all the families attending the masquerade and it includes a note of which ones have sons around his daughter’s age.
Michael is always working on a project. If I had to guess, his latest one is finding his college daughter a boyfriend.
He accepts the folder, our fingers brushing. It sends a tingle down my spine and I fight a shiver.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but there’s a knock on the door.
Eric, the head of cyber security here at Alpha Defense Industries, pokes his head into the room. “Ready when you are, Michael.”
Michael passes the folder back to me. “Add it to my desk.” Then he leaves without another word.
His desk is an overflowing mess of folders. It’s the place where organized projects go to die.
Instead, I stand and move to the filing cabinet across the room. My white heels clack against the marble office floor while the full white skirt of my dress swishes as I approach it.
The crinoline brushes against my thighs with every step, but I like dressing in vintage clothing. I love the way it makes me feel sexy and flatters my curvy figure.
When I’m done with that, I open my document again and lose myself in a world where I actually have a chance with Michael.
* * *
