“It’s a Maserati,” I mumble.
“Jesus Christ,” she blurts, and my smile returns to my lips, unavoidable at this point.
“That man is like the Bridgerton’s,” she says. “Rich, angsty, undeniably gorgeous. Fuck, it’s like a woman wrote him.”
“No,” I point at her in an attempt to diffuse her notion that Dominic is perfect. “If a woman wrote him, he wouldn’t be such a dick. You know he didn’t even know the color of my hair?”
“Seriously?” she asks.
“I went into his office on Friday to ask if I could leave, and he just stared at me for the longest, most uncomfortable moment before asking if my hair has always been this color.”
“Only since birth,” she snorts.
“Exactly.Soy costarricense,” I sigh.
“Maybe…he just…thought…” she stutters and then shakes her head. “I don’t know.” Then she sits up. “Oh! Maybe he recognized you from the other night!”
“See, that’s what I thought, but nothing about his expression suggested that,” I say. “I practically live at his house, and he has no idea who I am.”
“Well, to be fair,” Lainey says. “He’s usually working. Running that big-ass security firm while you’re buzzing around his house cleaning and cooking. I mean, unless you’re actively dusting around his feet, it’s not like you two spend that much time together getting to know each other.”
Except that we have gotten to know each other. In a way I will never forget and would have assumed he couldn’t either.
“What is it?” she asks.
Fuck.
“What?” I ask, playing dumb.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Sigh.
I look over at her, and she raises her eyebrows, encouraging me to go on.
“So the night he drove me home…”
“Yes…?”
I bite my lip. “Before I got out of the car…”
She gasps. “He kissed you!”
I nod, still biting my lip. “And…more…”
“How much more?” Lainey asks, her eyes the size of saucers.
“All of it?” I say, scrunching my face.
“You had sex with him?!” she asks and I nod. “In his car?!”
I nod again, and Lainey screams. Meanwhile, I slink down into the couch, covering my face with my hands.
“Oh. My. GOD!” she lets out. “How did that even happen? You have to tell me everything!”
“I don’t even know!” I admit, and I don’t. “One minute we were driving home, and it was awkward. He was asking me a million questions, and I was just trying to avoid looking at him because I was worried that he’d know who I am and fire me. But the next thing I knew he was kinda flirting with me, and of course I started flirting back because, well, DUH. And then, he just kissed me, and then he was on top of me and well…yeah.”
“You fucked your boss,” she says.
