Caught by the Boss

7

LEILA

At the end of the night, I asked him if I would see him again. He told me to set an alarm to remind me to log in every afternoon, and he'll find me when I logged in. When I reminded him that he wouldn't remember my existence, he told me he was sure he would approach me again, because our chemistry is just that strong.

Needless to say, I was swooning like an idiot. He must feel what I do. Although we haven't had sex since that first time, the pull between us remains strong.

I logged out, and hugged the helmet to my chest as I sat on my bed. The metal feels cold against my hands, and I quickly find myself missing his warmth.

Over the next few days, I meet with Henry every night. I always have to act like it's my first time seeing him. It's difficult pretending to be strangers while growing fonder every day. I have to hold back from being too relaxed, because that would raise alarms. I hate this lie.

Today, I have no plans of logging into the machine. I start working at the company tomorrow morning, and I've spent the afternoon freaking out. I planned my outfit, checked the weather a thousand times, glanced at the clock, and paced the room. My sister called to wish me good luck, and to remind me to stop picking my nails. She knows me too well. The pale pink nail polish I spent an hour applying is now chipped and piled on a corner of my nightstand.

I looked up some of the directors of the company, and didn't find a single smile across their profiles. Luckily, I went shopping and got funeral clothes, which seems to be the office attire. Boring greys, black, and whites. Even my shoes don't have a speck of color on them. I'll fit in just fine. My extra-bright underwear is my little rule-breaking secret.

I fell asleep late, but when my alarm rang, I didn't dare to snooze it. I changed into my neat, dark slacks and white blouse, picked up my purse and rushed for the bus.

I eagerly tapped my foot as I sat by the doors, glancing out the window for things that could possibly make me late. After forty minutes of anxiety, I get off the bus and walk a few blocks.

The cool air in the building is as refreshing as it is daunting. I go up the elevator to my designated floor, passing by strangers and desks stacked with paperwork.

My manager swoops in to save me. She welcomes me and begins pointing places and people in the office. The orientation is quick.

I take a deep breath in, absorbing this new world. And I can't help but notice the sparkle of excitement low in my belly.

— —

Hours later, I'm seated in my cubicle and getting familiar with the programs on my computer. Most of the other accountants around me are too busy to pay me much attention, although a few stopped by to greet me.

During lunchtime, I buy a protein bar from the vending machine. As I stood in line, a nice woman from another department introduced herself. Her name is Grace, and her smile is as bright as her red hair.

I walk out of the cafeteria alone, headed to my cubicle. I'm tapping my face in search of crumbs when the elevator doors open, and I find myself staring at my behemoth of a CEO. The tall man looks at me, and then his eyes flicker behind me and stay there.

I turn to see what has him captured. It's Grace. He's staring at her retreating back. (A/N: So he saw the red headed woman--Grace, who he thinks is Leila. That's why he was attracted to her. He has no idea the real Leila is in the elevator with him.)

I quickly slip into the elevator. The doors begin to close, and I look at Grace until she's gone from my sight. I wonder if she knows our boss is attracted to her? Maybe they have a hot office romance, or maybe I read too many novels.

I'm surprised to see him again. This building is too large for constant run-ins with the CEO, but I just happen to have the worst luck. Maybe I should avoid elevators. My calves could use some stairs.

The elevator rises as a bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. I feel stifled, heated. My mind runs with anxious thoughts. Was I supposed to greet him? What if the elevator gets stuck? Can he sense that I'm wearing color? The horror. I should have played it safe and wore black panties.

He's standing two feet away from me, casting a shadow over me although the elevator is brightly lit. He's overheating me, too, although the air conditioning is running.

This man is so powerful he has unlimited reign in this skyscraper and all the souls within it.

"The floor," comes his grumbling voice.

The floor? Yeah, I'm about to melt into it. And all that will remain of me will be grey goo with a splash of green— I really should have worn black panties.

"Are you going to select your floor?"

Oh, shit.

I shoot a hand out, pounding the twenty-second floor like it offends me. It's the wrong one, since my office is on the twenty first floor, but I'm going to walk out of here with my head high, and b-line for the staircase.

"Thank you," I say, my voice small. Very different from what it's like when I'm in the machine pretending to be a confident woman.

He clears his throat—something that strikes me as familiar, because Henry often does it to clear the sexual tension between us. I guess all sexy men do it.

There's silence as the elevator stops and the doors open. I wipe my sweaty hands on my slacks as I walk out, wishing that I had my helmet to pull over my head and hide my headed face.