Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
My mind is racing like a hamster on a wheel, and my stomach is churning in a similar way. No matter how Charles became aware of what’s going on, I have no one to blame but myself. I made the decision to open my blouse during my interview, and then I agreed to work here. And now, at best, I have to carry on with a sense of doom hanging over my head.
More likely, I’m going to have to face the consequences of my actions.
The only glimmer of hope is the fact that Charles doesn’t seem like the gossipy type. He eats alone, and I rarely see him socializing with anyone. Maybe he will keep it to himself.
I’m playing with fire, and I should stop getting together with Derek and Jansen, no matter how hard that will be.
Is it too late to make a New Year’s resolution to stop banging my bosses?
I keep my head down and work hard the rest of the day both as a means of distraction, and to try to prove to myself that I’m worthy of what I’m being paid, though I don’t quite believe it.
When it’s finally time to leave, Owen is waiting for the elevator with a bicycle by his side.
“I didn’t realize you ride your bike to work,” I say.
“I don’t typically, but thought I’d give it a try,” he says with a shrug. “Do you have a bike?”
“I do, but I’m afraid it’s gathering dust in a storage unit.”
The corner of his eyes crinkle as the elevator announces its arrival. “We should ride sometime. I like to take the coastal path on weekends.” He angles the bike into the small space after I enter, and when he steps in, he and I end up closer together than we’d typically stand.
What would things be like in some alternate universe where I conducted myself like a rational person during my interview at Community Bean, got hired on my professional merits, and perhaps dated a peer, rather than engaging in a shamefully secret power-imbalanced relationship with my bosses? What would my life be like if I was interested in nice guys instead of unreasonable grumps?
“Oh, I’m really out of practice,” I tell Owen. “I’d probably hold you back.”
“You wouldn’t,” he says, that easy grin of his almost, but not quite, becoming infectious.
I need to put an end to my forbidden fling and get my head on straight.
CHAPTER 40
ANA
Derek and Jansen are away for a week overseeing a new coffee shop that’s opening a couple of hours away, and I’m glad, because it means I don’t have to try to resist them.
They’ve become a habit, and maybe I can use this time to break it.
At work, I steer clear of Charles and have a very productive week. When I’m not working, I escape the real world by disappearing into books, and it’s lovely, though my real-life problems persist.
I’m called into Derek’s office the morning the men return. Jansen closes the door, and folds me into his arms, but I pull away. “We can’t, and especially not here,” I hiss.
“It’s okay. The door is locked.”
“I don’t care. Now that someone knows, I don’t feel right about it.”
“Come over for dinner, then,” Derek says.
I try to refuse; I really do. I think about how Charles knows I was with the men, and maybe he’ll somehow know if I go to Derek’s home again. There are so many reasons I shouldn’t keep seeing them, but after only the mildest amount of persuasion, I fold like a piece of origami paper.
There’s a chef at Derek’s home when I arrive. After searing salmon and tossing a green salad with freshly-made dressing, he leaves, and the three of us sit down to the delicious meal.
We talk about their week away, and how the new shop is looking. I keep things light when they ask how I’ve been. Charles and his awareness of our secret is never far from my mind, but I don’t want to ruin the mood by bringing it up.
The cat’s out of the bag, so there’s no point in talking about how to try to put it back in. Especially when I seem to be unable to stay away from these men.
As we enjoy berries and cream for dessert, Derek asks what I’ve been reading lately.
“It’s mostly always romance,” I tell him.
“What’s the latest one about?” Right after Jansen says this, his lips close over a strawberry that was on his spoon, and I’m so distracted, I nearly forget that he asked me a question.
Why do they ask about my romance books if they’re not interested in romance? And why do I always have to be reading books I’m embarrassed to talk about?
“Tell us about it,” Derek urges. He gets a bit of cream on his lips with his next bite, and I feel like I’m in a smutty book rather than being encouraged to talk about one.