Caught by the Boss

6

LEILA

I saw Henry again in-game. He returned to the lobby, as handsome as ever. Although he disappeared with his friend for a few minutes, he came back.

I can't help my excitement. For some reason, although he has no memories of me, he keeps approaching me. Is our chemistry that strong that he seeks me out, although it's like seeing me for the first time whenever he logs into the game? I can't help but feel guilty that I keep my memories and he doesn't. Soon, I'll have to find the courage to confess and ask if he wants to meet in real life.

I curl my fingers and toes at the thought. It's going to take months of overthinking before I open up and confess my sins.

I watch him approach me, my mind running with things to say.

"Sorry about that," he says, his lopsided grin making me weak at the knees. I would let him get away with anything to preserve that smile of his.

"It's fine," I mumble, momentary forgetting that I'm supposed to be a confident woman whenever I'm in the Machine.

I'm curious about the guy that approached Henry. I've seen him around before, but I can't admit that to Henry or he'll realize my secret.

"Would you want to go somewhere more private?" He asks.

My face warms at the thought of the last time we went somewhere private. I mutely nod, and stay still even as he reaches for my hand.

I remember just how large his hands are. How much of my skin he can squeeze as he's pleasing me.

He strokes his thumb across the back of my hand, and I fear he can feel my pulse.

The lobby transforms around us, giving me a much needed distraction. This time, there's no grass and green skies. He doesn't remember the intimacy we shared during the picnic.

This time, we're in the woods. A fire crackles between two logs, and Henry leads me to one. He sits beside me and exhales into the cool night.

I watch his Adam's apple bob, and I'm mesmerized by the feature. He is so masculine. Is he like this in real life?

I remember spotting my CEO in the hallway. He was a giant man, undoubtedly the broadest and tallest I've seen. While he and Henry are very different people, I can't help but wonder how they physically compare.

"Are you cold?" Comes his rumbling voice.

I'm not, but I dip my chin just to see what he'll do. He doesn't disappoint, wrapping an arm around me.

"Thank you," I say, entwining my fingers and looking up at the full moon. "How did you create this incredible map? I didn't see any tutorials about this."

He pauses before answering, "my friend taught me a few tricks."

"That must be a smart friend, then. Do you know any other tricks?"

"No," he says. "I'm just a regular guy."

I chuckle. "Regular? I guess you can call me that, too."

"Tell me more about yourself," he says.

The request catches me off guard.

"But you won't remember me or anything I share."

He shrugs. "Maybe I will in my dreams."

I chuckle. "So cheesy." Then I think hard about what to say.

"I'm alone right now, and I hate it. I've always enjoyed being around others. But at least I keep myself busy. I have a bad habit of fixating on new things and trying them out. Recently I was into ballet dancing, so I put some videos on the TV. Needless to say I'm going to have to work overtime to replace all the furniture I broke."

He laughs, his rich voice filling the night. "And right now you're into stealing men's hearts in The Machine?"

I snort. "No. Right now I'm reading about parachutes. I have a pair of granny panties my mom gifted me last Christmas that might do the trick."

I love the sound of his laughter.

"If you're going to try to jump off a balcony, at least do it in this simulated world so you don't break your neck."

"But what's the fun in that?"

We chat for hours. He tells me little about himself, but I get the impression that he, too, is alone.

HENRY

I think I know who she is.

As soon as I sign out of the game, I go to my computer and pull up the search bar. With just a few clicks in the employee database, I could know all about her. I could even ask Gregory to send me all the information he has gathered on her.

There's a red-headed woman in the office. I don't remember her name, but she works in my legal department. She has been there for a few months, and I briefly recall her mentioning taking ballet classes when I passed by the break room.

That has to be her.

My fingers refuse to move across the keyboard. I'm conflicted, because I don't want to dig into her file and confirm her identity.

The screen separates us, keeping her safe. The problem is that if I see her in the office, I can't be sure that I'll hold myself back from approaching. I'm a damn impulsive, greedy bastard.

I step away from my computer, but can't get her face out of my head. That beautiful red hair of hers will haunt me. I want to know what it looks like splayed on my white sheets.

With a sigh, I check my email and try to focus on reality.

I hope I don't run into her any time soon, but knowing my luck, it's only a matter of time before we cross paths