Page 112 of Saved By the CEO

“Dinner tonight?”

I turn back. He is still leaning against the desk, watching me with an expression that is trying very hard to appear casual.

“I’d love to.”

He nods once, as though we have just finalized a business arrangement.

I put my hand on the door handle, then glance back at him. “You know, I’m going to need slightly more enthusiasm from my boyfriend.”

Andrew closes his eyes briefly.

When he opens them again, the corner of his mouth lifts.

“Get back to work, Carly.”

I open the door, still smiling.

“See you tonight.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Iwake up to the smell of coffee.

“Happy first day,” Andrew says, holding out a steaming mug.

I blink up at him from his bed, still half buried under the sheets. His shirt isn’t buttoned all the way, his tie is still undone, and his hair is slightly damp from the shower.

“Thank you,” I mumble, sitting up and taking the cup from him.

The coffee is exactly how I like it, which is to say, more cream and sugar than coffee. I take a sip and hope it does something about the small, frantic bird currently trapped inside my rib cage.

It’s been a month since I got the job in Communications, and the last few weeks have been spent trying to make the transition to a new assistant as smooth as possible. I have written detailed instructions. I have made lists. I have color-coded files. I have created a document so thorough it should probably be studied by future historians.

In between all of that, I have also spent many, many nights at Andrew’s apartment.

Let’s just say the schedule isn’t needed anymore.

I haven’t had a fever in over a month, which Dr. Shaw finds “encouraging” and I find extremely satisfying. Andrew makes sure it stays that way. Often. Sometimes more than once a day. Sometimes more than twice, if he’s feeling particularly committed to my health.

We’re a new couple, okay?

We fuck like bunnies.

HR knows about us, which makes the whole thing technically above board, but we’ve kept the relationship quiet until I officially leave my role as his assistant. No flirting at work, no dates in public, and definitely no disappearing into his office to do highly inappropriate things on his desk. Even though I think about it. Extensively.

Sneaking around has been fun. Exciting, even. There’s something weirdly thrilling about standing beside him in the elevator, acting normal while knowing he had his mouth on my inner thigh a few hours earlier.

But I’m glad it’s over.

Because today, I am officially Carly Michaels, Communications Coordinator.

And tonight, Andrew is taking me out to dinner to celebrate. A real date at a real restaurant with reservations and everything.

I can’t wait.

But first, I have to get through the day.

Andrew sits on the edge of the bed beside me, close enough that his thigh brushes my hip through the sheets. “Nervous?”