Page 113 of My Favorite Boss

There was no response. I peeked up to see his eyes closed. He’d fallen asleep again. It happened more and more these days. Less time awake, more spent asleep or in another world.

Still, I kept rubbing the cream into his hands until they felt softer.

I sat with him for a while longer, and when he woke up, he politely asked where his wife was, and when I said she was out, he nodded.

“She likes to shop,” he informed me. “For herself and my daughter. Have you met her?”

“Yes,” I replied with a catch in my voice. “She is nice.”

“She’s amazing. We are so proud of her.”

I nodded, fighting back my sob. “I’m sure she knows.”

Rylee patted my hand, her eyes filled with sympathy. “It must be hard,” she murmured. “Your dad is in front of you, but not there.”

“Yes, it is.” I wiped at the tears that kept coming. “Sorry, I can’t stop.”

“It’s okay.”

“What about your parents?” I asked, wanting the subject off me.

She shook her head. “My dad and mom divorced when I was young. I lived with my mom for a while, but we never really got along well. My dad remarried and I stayed with them, but they moved to Denmark when I was eighteen. I’ve been on my own since then.”

“Do you get on well with them?”

“Dad and Cara? Yes. She always wanted to move home, and Dad was thrilled for the chance to travel. They asked me to come, but I was deep into tech school. My mom, I rarely see.” She grimaced. “We still don’t get on.”

“Any particular reason or usual parent stuff?” I asked, thinking of Bane.

“She was a model. I am anything but. I don’t measure up.”

“I see. Her loss, then.”

She barked out a humorless laugh. “Maybe if I lost a lot of weight, she’d approve. But I gave up on that a long time ago. She had me on a diet as far back as I could remember. It took me years and years to have a healthy relationship with food. I doubt I will ever have one with her. Even my therapist agrees. She is toxic.”

“I’m sorry.” I reached for her hand. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful. You have amazing eyes and a wonderful smile.”

“Thanks.” She took a sip of coffee. “And it’s fine. I’ve moved on. Now tell me something fun you did this weekend.”

I hesitated, then blurted it out. “Bane asked me to marry him.”

She choked on her coffee, sputtering into her cup. “Say what now? He did what?”

I nodded. “He asked me to marry him. Well, sort of demanded, then asked. Then demanded again.”

“Well, that sounds like him, but I had no idea…” She let her voice trail off. “You and he have been…?” She lifted her eyebrows in question.

I nodded.

She leaned closer, her eyes dancing. “Oh my God, tell me everything. Since when? The dinner, right? It started after the dinner. I knew he liked you. He was so intense when he asked me what happened. I knew if he could get away with it, he would have pitched those women off the roof to shut them up. He was so angry and protective. I had a feeling about you two even then. He’s incredible in bed, am I right? Demanding and controlling? Of course he is,” she muttered, answering her own question. “Is it amazing? Is he grumpy at home too or all soft and squishy like a marshmallow? Do the partners know? I mean, there are no rules against it, but what do they think? I mean, it’s Bane.” She grabbed my arm, almost squealing. “Did you say yes? Oh, please tell me you said yes.”

I gaped at her rapid-fire questions.

“Um, yes, after the dinner. And he is wonderful. The partners know, and he is pretty intense all the time. But he is so good to me. We, ah, got a cat together and everything.”

“Oh my God,” she repeated. “A pet. Bane with a cat? I need to see this.” She was practically humming, leaning so far over the table, her ample breasts were resting on the top. “And in bed? How is he in bed?”

“Yes, do tell us how I am in bed.” Bane’s voice broke in. “I’d love to hear it.”