Page 44 of Bossman

Chase: I think this requires a face-to-face, sit-down conversation.

Reese: Like a date?

Chase: Don’t think of it as a date. Think of it as a business meeting where we negotiate terms that lead to full performance of the contract in the future.

Reese: And that full performance would be…

I nearly fell over in my seat, hearing Chase’s voice behind me. “You in my bed, of course.”

I whipped my chair around. “I thought you were away until tomorrow.”

“Came back early. Had some pressing business.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long.” He pointed to the window. “But I could see your reflection in the glass, and I liked watching your face as you texted.”

“Voyeur.”

“If I can’t have, I’m not above watching. Is that an offer?”

Chase looked like he hadn’t shaved in a day or two. I wondered what that stubble would feel like rubbing against my cheek…and against the inside of my thighs. His tie was loose, his suit jacket draped over one arm, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing muscular forearms. I definitely had a thing for forearms. When I finally pulled my gaze back up to his eyes, he looked pleased at my being flustered.

“What did you ask?” I managed.

With a knowing grin, he said, “How about dinner? Did you eat yet?”

I picked up the protein bar on my desk that I hadn’t gotten around to. “Not yet.”

He tilted his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let me buy you some dinner. I can’t have my employees working twelve hours a day and starving.”

When I didn’t immediately agree, he sighed. “It’s not a date. We’re sharing a meal. Business associates do it all the time.”

I pulled my purse out of the drawer and pressed the button to put my laptop to sleep. “Okay. But this isn’t a date.”

“Of course not.”

“All right then.”

He winked. “It’s a negotiation.”

***

Apparently, I’d decided to take this negotiation thing very seriously, because I didn’t even wait until we got to the elevator before I started being difficult.

“Have you ever been to Gotham in Union Square?” Chase asked.

“That’s a date place. Too romantic. How about Legends in Midtown?”

“Do we have to eat at a dive bar for it to not qualify as a date? We’ll go to Elm Café, down the block.”

“Bossy,” I said under my breath.

Because it was after regular building hours, we rode the service elevator down to the back entrance and exited the building on 73rd Street. Elm Café was only two blocks away.

Of course, when we passed by Iron Horse Gym, Bryant happened to be walking toward the door at that very moment. Because that was just my luck.

He looked at me, then at the man standing next to me, and stopped.