AllFreeNovel Stories worth discovering

Boss Me Dirty

Page 66

by Kai Lesy

For a second, I think it’s part of the strange dream I was having, involving piles of paper taller than my head and locks with no keys. But then laughter follows, tugging me from the dream’s hold. I open my eyes to bright sunlight streaming between the slats of the wooden shutters.

“What the hell?”

Sebastian is still asleep beside me, his expression peaceful.

There’s another high-pitched squeal, followed by a child’s voice screaming, “Cannonball!”

Splash.

Sebastian bolts upright. We stare at each other, eyes wide. A chaotic symphony has replaced the silence of the secluded estate. He slips from the bed and walks to the window to glance through the slats. I expect his shoulders to tense, but instead, they fall with an odd acceptance.

“I guess that’s the end of our isolation,” he says with an apologetic smile.

“What? Who is that?”

More laughter comes from outside.

“It’s Aaron, my brother. It looks like he’s brought the kids up for the long weekend. And he’s brought our mother with him.”

“Oh.” It’s an inane response.

Well, shit.

24

SEBASTIAN

Needless to say, things are a bit awkward when Isabella and I wander out to the pool area. They had to have known I was here; the staff would have told them. Plus, Kiersten is here, and wherever I am, she is.

Given everything that’s going on, it’s perfectly reasonable for everyone to assume Isabella and I have simply been working. There is no reason for anyone to know we are sleeping together. The house is too big, and even Kiersten knows that Isabella slept in the guest room, at least, for part of one night, and nothing more.

So why do I feel like Aaron is giving me a look that says he knows everything?

Isabella already knows Aaron, having worked with him a few times before I told him to excuse himself from the proceedings, so he could claim innocence if anything goes awry. He was reluctant, but I finally convinced him by arguing that he had to protect his kids.

But now, Isabella is being introduced to the rest of my family: my two nephews, aged seven and nine, my teenage niece, Maya, who’s fifteen going on twenty-one, and my mother. I have a difficult time making the introduction between the two women, though I don't know why. I feel like a teenager introducing his prom date to his parent for the first time. It’s ridiculous; prom was twenty-five years ago.

After a while, Isabella and I excuse ourselves to get back to work. I’ve never been so relieved to be away from my family’s prying eyes, grateful they didn't ask about what was clearly written in their expressions. I just hope Isabella didn't catch it.

As we work, there’s an odd silence between Isabella and me. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s heavy, charged with everything we did yesterday.

We agreed on the rules. Yet last night, we systematically dismantled every single one of them.

I try to keep my eyes fixed on my laptop screen, tracing information that I feel like I’ve combed through a thousand times before. But my gaze keeps shifting to where Isabella sits across from me. She’s focused, her fingers flying across the keyboard, a small furrow appearing between her eyes, as she follows the lines of text.

She looks professional. She looks composed. But all I can think about is the woman who whispered my name in the dark just hours ago.

“You’re staring, Sebastian,” she says, not looking up. A small, knowing smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth.

“I’m analyzing,” I correct her. “The data is… complex.”

“Complex?” Isabella looks up, her eyes meeting mine. They’re bright, dancing with amusement and challenge, making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling.

“Yes.” I clear my throat. “Very complex.”

She laughs, a soft, melodic sound that cuts through my defenses, like a hot knife through butter. “If you’re having that much trouble concentrating, maybe we should take a break. There’s a literal chorus of chaos outside that sounds a lot more inviting than staring at the same information for hours on end.”

As if on cue, a high-pitched shriek of joy echoes from the terrace, followed by the unmistakable thwack of a beach ball hitting water.