Page 61 of Saved By the CEO

Atlas Development.Yes. That’s my saving grace. Soon, I’ll be working for Atlas Development as their PR Manager, and this situation will become much less complicated.

I mean, I can have a crush on a former boss. I can even fantasize about a former boss. That’s fine. And if he wants to fantasize about his former assistant? Go for it, big boy. Who am I to stop you? Picture me naked.

Please.

Unfortunately, my silent invitation does not end the meeting. Instead, the day keeps going. One investor meeting becomes two. The two meetings become a site visit. The site visit becomes another call in the back of a car, while I sit beside Andrew and pretend I’m not hyperaware of every single movement he makes.

He is better at pretending than I am.

He talks about timelines, permits, projected returns, and long-term market strategy like this morning didn’t happen. Like I didn’t have him in my mouth while the sun came up over Manhattan.

I try to focus. I take notes. I nod at appropriate times. I even ask one useful question during a meeting with the New York project team, which feels like a miracle considering my mind is still back in that hotel bed.

Once we get to the airport, we find out our flight is delayed by forty minutes because of course it is. We sit beside each other at the gate under fluorescent lights that make everyone look like they’ve recently survived something. Andrew works on his laptop for a while. I pretend to answer emails.

Eventually, Andrew shuts his laptop and turns his head toward me. “You barely ate anything today. Are you hungry?”

“A little,” I admit.

He stands without replying and disappears toward one of the airport cafés. When he comes back, he’s carrying a bottle of water, a sandwich, and a paper bag with the corner of something chocolaty sticking out. He hands me the sandwich and water.

I look at the bag. “Is that also for me?”

“No.”

I stare at him.

He takes a chocolate cookie from the bag, breaks it in half, and gives me the smaller piece.

“Wow,” I say. “Generous.”

He sits down beside me again and takes a bite of his cookie. For some reason, watching Andrew Bennett eat a cookie at an airport at ten at night feels more intimate than it should.

“It’s kind of funny, you know,” I say after a while. “Your sweet tooth.”

He glances at me. “My sweet tooth?”

“Yeah, your love for all things sugary.”

He looks down at the cookie, frowning. “A lot of people like sweet things.”

“I know. It’s just unexpected.” I shrug. “When I first started working for you, I assumed you only consumed black coffee and protein shakes. Maybe the occasional raw egg.”

“I do like my coffee black.” His mouth almost twitches. “I can enjoy sweet things while also preferring not to have them in my coffee.”

“And the protein shakes?”

“They’re good for you.”

“Raw eggs?”

“The raw eggs were a phase.”

I give him a long look.

He takes another bite of the cookie, the almost-smile still barely visible at the corner of his mouth. “I contain multitudes, Miss Michaels.”

I shake my head, hiding my own smile behind the sandwich.