She swallows and straightens her spine. “Okay.”
I grab a small espresso cup and immediately try to figure out the new machine, then look at her.“I’m curious. Would it bother you if I asked you to book rooms for me when I might have someone, plural or not, who might relax my day?”
She turns her head sharply and daggers my eyes with her own. “Who am I to be a moral judge? It’s my job, isn’t it? I signed an NDA.” She walks to me with heavy steps, snatches the cup from my hand, and takes over my coffee pursuit.
I tut. “You didn’t answer my question.” I scoot a few inches closer to her from behind, and it would be so easy to reach out and touch her shoulder.
“It’s probably not appropriate to ask me such things.” Her voice is weak.
Poking her right now to gauge her thoughts is how I want to play.“For your reference, I had a serious girlfriend in college, which made both our families happy. It didn’t make me happy, however. I’m not a relationship guy. My 20s were a time of naivety and afternoon fun. But call it experience with age, but I have a strict policy to keep my mutually beneficial indiscretions out of the office.”
Her body stills from my bluntness. After a second, she juts her chin out, and I feel her body shift into a confidence that I recognize in her. She glances over her shoulder at me. “Have you always been this open with your assistants? Or do I get that honor and misery?”
I choke out a low laugh. “Do you mean the way you have a mouth and speak to me, ignoring rank?”
She scoffs. “Wow. You really are a piece of work.”
“Should I be proud of that? And to answer your question, no. Congratulations on being special.”
“Oh joy,” she responds unenthusiastically.
“Let’s simply establish that you and I don’t have any lines or boundaries. You and I can speak freely, and I won’t feel the need to chastise you for your snark.As for appropriate? I don’t think you and I understand the word, so I’ll let your mind run wild on that one. Should we agree on the new policy established?”
Her intrigue is written all over her face, and her nose lifts slightly; she doesn’t seem to be debating with herself, though. “Fine. Agreed.”
Miracle of the day.
A shame everything I just spewed out could be a lie, because all I want to ask her is if she will be a problem and cause an actual indiscretion in the office. Savannah threatens every policy I have. I’m not sure if it’s a game I am eager to play or something else altogether.
She looks forward and focuses on the coffee, but a micro step on my part and her body stills, and I’m positive her dirty little mind telepathically met mine somewhere.
I do something risky, but I’m far too curious to stop myself. My fingers float without touching her, trailing down her arms to near her hands, which hold the cup under the machine spout.
“So, this is the new machine?”
Almost magnetically, her body gravitates toward mine. Our distance closes, but not enough to touch. I sense a hitch in her breath, and I’m not letting this moment go, either. The feeling of her so close fills mylungs with a heavy breath that in a different setting would be sensual.
“It is. A new type of bean, too.” She fills the portafilter and screws it into the drip. She struggles to tighten it into place, and it isn’t the machine’s fault. My fingers gently skim her wrist before I take over the machine, and her hands fall away. Yet her floral smell is still intoxicating because she hasn’t stepped away from me. I wonder if she senses it, too. A dangerous line that we’re balancing on.
But I have an empire to run, and I haven’t checked the calendar for today, but I’m positive I have a meeting in five.
The sound of the coffee machine grinding fills our ears, breaking the heaviness of our bubble. Savannah steps away, clearly affected, and her eyes avoid me at what seems to be all costs.
“Right. So, uhm, yeah, I sent you the project deck for the two o’clock meeting to have a skim through to ensure you’re aware of what the social media team wants to present. Also, your travel is all booked for Boston in a few weeks.”
She’s flustered, and it’s all my doing. That can make a man proud, and I’m no exception.
“Okay.”
Our eyes meet and remain self-assured, pretending all is normal. It really isn’t, but I’m taking the lead on this. I even slide the freshly brewed espresso out from under the machine and bring it to my lips for a sip. I don’t blink even once. Instead, I keep my eyes locked on her.
“Anything else?”
She shakes her head and clearly thinks for a long beat. “No. All fine. Let me know if you need something.”
Her on her knees would be one thing. But that idea has to leave my head.
She sashays past me, and I smirk to myself, but shedoesn’t see because she doesn’t look back, only closes the door behind her.
