Page 32 of Lying to the Boss

Chapter Twelve

Tage

It’s impossible to do my job when Lane keeps looking at me like he wants to devour me. I think he always looked at me like that, and it was easier to ignore him before. Or maybe it wasn’t as intense.

We’ve been back from the trip for a week now, and each day I’ve come to the office I expect these butterflies to vacate my insides. But it seems they’re breeding. I don’t have time to deal with butterflies, yet here I am.

“How about lunch today?” Lane asks as he half-sits on my desk.

I look away from my computer and meet his gaze. Automatically, I want to say no. But would it be so terrible to go out with this man for lunch? He’s been asking me for weeks. We had a good weekend together, meals included, but what does this mean for us? For me?

I don’t know if this is worth the risk.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on,” he says, then leans in close. “What harm could it do?”

All the harm.

Ruin my life.

Well, the life I’m starting to build.

I finally have a job all on my own. I’m earning money. I’m buying my own things.

I have an apartment that I bought every piece of furniture for—and am still buying, because I’m not even close to being done yet.

I pay my bills—all on my own.

I am taking pride in all of this. And what happens if this becomes… something?

“I’ve been asking myself that exact question,” I say.

“And?”

“There is a very long list of things.”

“Tage—”

“I’m just saying…” I get to my feet. “Don’t act like this is harmless. Just because you won’t feel the fall, doesn’t mean I won’t.”

His eyes narrow. “Who said anything about falling?”

“It’s inevitable, Lane. We both know it. Now come on. Before I change my mind.”

I grab everything I need and head out the door. It takes a moment for him to follow me, but eventually he does. Catching up easily.

We ride the elevator down and I let him lead the way once we’re in the lobby.

The security officer waves us off as we pass by and go outside, turning the corner toward where the restaurants are.

“Where are we going?” I ask, needing to speak because the silence feels weird after the note I left it on inside.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll know when I see it.”