Pierce glances at me with an expression I can’t read. “You didn’t eat at the party,” he says suddenly. “I noticed. There’s a place nearby that does amazing pizza.”
“Lead the way,” I reply, wondering if he’s being the diligent boss or, like me, isn’t ready for our time together to end because we know this can’t happen again.
The pizza place is small and warm, tucked between taller buildings like a secret waiting to be discovered. We place our order and settle into a corner booth.
“So,” he says as we wait, sliding his tie off and rolling it up before putting it in the pocket of his jacket. “Tell me about the almost-disasters I missed at the party. I know there must have been some.”
“Well,” I start, watching his eyes crinkle with anticipation, “there was the moment when Geoff almost set off the emergency glitter supply I’d hidden in the flower arrangements…”
Pierce’s laugh is real and unguarded and makes me wish I saw it more often. I tell him about narrow misses with champagne trays, about how the jazz quartet almost played “Baby Shark” instead of smooth classics due to a mix-up with their sheet music.
The pizza arrives steaming and perfect.
“I like you like this,” I admit softly, earning a questioning look. “Relaxed. Real. Not trying to be perfect all the time.”
His expression softens into something vulnerable, making my heart race. “I like you any way you are,” he replies. “Professional, chaotic, and anywhere in between.”
When the pizza is gone, and we can no longer pretend we’re just sharing a casual meal, we step into the night air. I’m suddenly very aware that our night together, our time that felt so much like a fairytale, is coming to an end.
I’m about to say something when Pierce pulls me close and steals a movie-worthy kiss.
“Wow,” I gasp. “That was the best parting kiss I’ve ever had.”
“Wait,” he says as I start to pull away. His hand dips into his jacket pocket, emerging with a familiar pad of pink sticky notes. He produces a pen from another pocket, writing something before pressing the note into my hand.
His final kiss is softer, sweeter. Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with a racing heart and tingling lips. I look down at the sticky note, and my breath catches at the message:
14
PIERCE
“I like you like this.”Thatcher had said, watching me reach for another slice of pizza with sauce-stained fingers.“Relaxed. Real.”The words echo in my memory like he’s saying them right now, but when I look up, he’s at his desk, on the phone, a picture of focus.
Unlike me. His boss. The man who almost came in his pants last night just from grinding and kissing like a teenager.
I run my hands over my face and exhale, jumping when my phone rings.
When I pick it up, I hear a chuckle. “Sounds like you’re struggling with something over there, boss.”
I look up to meet his eyes through the glass. “You’d know all about that.”
“I do, but I’m trying to be professional here, and the only way I know to bring back your chill face isn’t very appropriate for the workplace.”
I groan. “Thatcher…”
“Yes, boss?”
“Is there a reasonyou called?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t waste company resources on teasing my boss. I’m very capable of doing that on my own. I called to ask if you want me to grab you a coffee before the board meeting. If you want your favorite, I’ll need to run down now because they get busy mid-morning, and no amount of flirting with the barista will get me served faster.”
I close my hand in a fist at the thought of Thatcher flirting with another man before I flex it open and take another deep breath.
“No, I’ve had enough caffeine for today.”
“Okey-dokey. I’ll head on to the conference room. I want to check in with Tina before the meeting.”
I nod, and we both put the phone down. I try not to watch as he moves away from his desk, though not before bending over to grab something from a lower drawer.
