Page 7 of Lying to the Boss

The shit-eating grin on his face makes me want to slap him.

The look in his eyes tells me exactly what he’s thinking about—last night.

I was banking on this job. They’re desperate. I’m desperate. I was going to play it up like no other and walk out of here with a job offer. Now I’m screwed.

“Of all the people to show up in my building this morning, the last person I ever expected was you.”

I force a smile because I will not let this bring me down today. “I’m just full of surprises.”

He looks me up and down. “Yes, you are.” Then his gaze narrows, but his posture doesn’t change. “Did you know who I was last night?”

I scoff. I don’t mean to, but I can’t help it. “If you mean did I know who you were when you propositioned me, the answer is no. In fact, I got the call about the interview while I was sitting across the bar from you. They said the name of the company was Blue Luxury and Spa. You didn’t tell me anything about your company.”

He runs his fingers across his chin as he considers something. It’s then I notice he has nothing in his hands. No paper. No pen. Not prepared for an interview.

"What is happening here?" I ask, not entirely sure this isn’t some kind of set-up. It feels too… perfectly wrong.

"I'm asking myself the same thing," Mr. Monroe says carefully.

I hate that I can’t help how handsome the man is. He has that classical look about him. Dark hair, shiny and styled just right. His eyes are dark brown, surrounded by thick lashes that women would kill for. His features are pronounced and defined, like a model.

“Did you know who I was at the bar last night?” I ask before I start drooling.

“How could I?”

Fair point.

He studies me for another few seconds, not awkwardly, not even flirtatiously. Just... curiously. Like I'm a puzzle he hasn't solved and doesn’t know where to begin. Maybe he doesn’t believe that I didn’t know. I’ll admit that it is hard to believe. But it’s true. And another thing he doesn’t know—I’m not sleeping with men for jobs.

"You look different,” he finally says.

Really? That’s what he’s going with?

"I changed my clothes,” I deadpan.

"I noticed." The corner of his mouth twitches as if he’s recalling a fond memory. "So." He leans back, relaxing slightly. "You came here looking for a job."

"Obviously.”

"And if I remember correctly..." His gaze drifts briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. "Last night you made it very clear you weren't looking for anything serious—or long-term."

Heat crawls up my neck.

"Last night was last night."

"So it was."

Silence settles between us, his gaze like fire. I feel my body growing hot and itchy.

"I'd like to keep it that way," I add.

He nods. "Fair."

That wasn't the response I expected, but I also didn’t expect to walk into an interview with the man who railed me so hard last night that I’m still feeling it today. To be fair, I did tell him to do that.

"But you do realize this position is for my personal assistant, don’t you?” he adds with a raised brow and a smirk.

I swallow hard, because no. No, I didn’t know that. Maybe because I was too thrilled about the interview that I didn’t listen, or maybe because they never mentioned it. I can’t be sure.