Page 8 of Lying to the Boss

“Does it matter?” I play stupid. Act like what happened between us less than twelve hours ago doesn’t mean anything. Because it doesn’t. It was just one night. This is my future, and that’s what’s important. Who cares about some guy I slept with one time? I sure as hell don’t.

He gives a small shrug. “Does it to you?”

“No. In fact, I can barely remember it at all.”

Humor crosses his face, and I know he doesn’t believe me. But he doesn’t call me out on it either.

"It pays eighty-five thousand."

My brain stalls, because what? “You didn’t even ask me any questions.”

"Plus bonuses."

I stare. “What about the interview?”

“I think we had a wonderful interview, Mr. Briar.” He gives me a knowing smile. “You wouldn’t agree?”

“This isn’t—”

“If eighty-five is too low, I can bump it to ninety.”

“What? Why?” The words come out louder than I intend. I don’t like that he’s making me lose my composure. I spent years perfecting it.

He watches me with fascination.

"You really weren't expecting this outcome when you saw me,” he says carefully, like he’s only now just believing that I didn’t know who he was last night.

Which annoys the hell out of me.

“I’m not the kind of person who cheats to get ahead in life. I’ve worked my ass off and lost a lot of things to be here. I’m not fucking around,” I say, my temper getting the best of me, because I feel like I’m being toyed with and I don’t like it. Swearing in an interview is a big no-no, everyone knows this, but this isn’t a typical interview.

“Which is exactly why you’re the perfect fit for the job. You can start tomorrow morning. Does that work for you?”

My jaw drops to the floor. “Are you serious? Did you even look at my resume?”

My cheeks are flushed, anger coursing through my veins. I could be a homeless person off the street with nothing more than a middle school education, and he’d hire me. Why have I worked my ass off if none of my hard work matters?

Mr. Monroe gets up, fixing his jacket as he straightens. “I told my head of human resources that if she didn’t bring me a competent person, I’d fire them all. And I am a man of my word, if nothing else. I trust she did her job. See you in the morning, Tage.”

He walks out of the room, leaving me speechless and feeling… some type of way I can’t explain.

What have I just gotten myself into?

Chapter Three

Lane

I am a morning person. The only way to have a good day is to start it off right, which means staying on schedule and adhering to a routine.

Wake up at 5:30. Have a protein smoothie. Work out for twenty minutes. Have coffee and a small breakfast. Lunch isn’t always promised during the day, so I eat a big breakfast in the morning. After that, I shower and get dressed in one of my individually tailored suits, and get driven to the office by Blake, who says nothing more to me than, “Good morning, Mr. Monroe. Have a good day, Mr. Monroe.”

Exactly as I like it. I’m not a man of many words at any time of the day.

Blake turns into the half-circle drop-off area, and I head into the building and up to my floor.

My routine this morning was exactly like all the others. I’ve done this for years and it’s not something I have to think about anymore. I just do it. But this morning is different.

Because this morning, I have a new assistant starting. One I am thoroughly intrigued by. People don’t intrigue me. But Tage Briar does, and I can’t quite figure out why. Which is the problem. I don’t like not knowing things.