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“I can just show you the ten projects right now,” I offered. “It won’t take long.”
“I’m hungry.” He positioned himself on the edge of his desk. “Besides, we’ve both been busy this week. I would love to break bread and share a glass of wine with you.”
His words sounded innocent, but his gaze strayed to my breasts for a second.
I’d thought we’d taken care of his trying to come on to me.
“Just dinner?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I had some plans tonight. Can I—”
“No.” Those green eyes targeted me.
“Okay,” I muttered with annoyance.
“You pick where we eat. It seems you have a knack for finding great food spots.”
On Monday, he’d requested I be spontaneous with his lunch choices and ignore the places listed in the binder. Every day, I found a new food spot to visit or meal for him to sample.
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. Pride rose in my heart. “So you enjoyed your lunch selections, too?”
“They were the highlight of my days.”
Minutes later, we headed to the elevator.
Outside his office, people hurried to gather their items. A few whispered and motioned our way. Each time I walked down this path, I tried to ignore the gossiping murmurs. Each moment seemed harder than the rest.
I kept his pace. “What was your favorite lunch?”
“Hmm.” He pressed the down button. “Can I be brutally honest?”
“Definitely.”
“I never thought I would get an erection from eating a chicken salad sandwich.” Chase gestured for me to get in first when the doors opened. I laughed and then blushed at the realization of him having an erection while he ate that sandwich across from me.
“I’m sorry.” He smirked. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“No.” God yes. “And that wasn’t just any chicken salad sandwich. That was chunks of honey roasted chicken combined with shredded smoked Gouda, sundried tomato aioli, candied walnuts, and sliced fresh grapes between two slabs of crusty French bread.”
He flashed me a concerned look. “Did you memorize the menu description?”
I raised my eyebrows as the elevator lowered. “Would that be weird?”
“Yes. That would be unsettling.”
“Then no.”
He chuckled to himself. “Wait. Should I press your floor’s button? Do you need to get your purse?”
“No.”
“Where do you put your money and keys?”
“Here.” I tapped my cleavage and then immediately regretted it.
I don’t think you’re supposed to fondle your breast in front of a new boss.
