Page 4 of Miss Understanding

Jesus, seeing the fire in her eyes and hearing her curse had been like a shot to my cock. One I had to ignore. I was her boss. She was my assistant. End of story.

Hearing Tabitha’s voice outside, I listened for a moment before deciding to use her as a distraction. Moving to the door, I took a breath and schooled my features.

Tabitha was a smart, driven, and successful income partner specializing in employment law. She was also blatant about wanting to be more than coworkers. I could almost hear her biological clock ticking every time she walked by. But it would never happen. Especially not with a woman who would probably eat her own young if it meant she could trade up from an income partner to an equity partner and earn more money.

I invited her in, but after thirty minutes of barely listening to her drone on about her latest case, I glanced at my clock.

“Sorry, Tabitha, I have a call.”

“I know the feeling. I need to get back to my packed schedule. I’ll probably be here late. Drinks later?”

“Thanks, but no. I also have a busy schedule.”

“If you want a break, you have my number.”

Yes, I did. And I’d never use it. Although there wasn’t a fraternization policy in place to preclude dating, in my mind there certainly should be. It was unprofessional and, worst of all, a threat to everything I’d ever accomplished. My rule applied to everyone with whom I worked. No exceptions based on title. A smart man did not sleep his way around the building he hoped to put his name on someday. “I do. Have a good night.”

After Tabita walked out, I sat at my desk unfocused. I needed to figure out what to do about next week and the funeral. And I required my assistant to help me do it, prompting me to ask her to come in.

She walked in slowly, her head held high, her shoulders back. I shouldn’t have noticed how snugly her new skirt fit her hips or how her silk blouse, although demure, gaped enough at the top two buttons to allow a peek of golden skin at her collarbone. I wasn’t sure of her heritage, but her skin appeared kissed by the sun in the most natural way. She was petite. Probably all of five foot two, but she had curves in all the right places. She was beautiful in such an unassuming, almost innocent way. And completely off-limits. Something I had to remind myself of several times a day.

“We need to talk about logistics for this next week.”

She licked her lips, making me quickly take a seat behind my desk and focus on my computer. It was a strategy I often used when she was in my presence. I avoided all eye contact and pretended I wasn’t attracted to her whatsoever.

“Of course. First I want to say I’m sorry.”

“For my loss or for telling me to pick up the fucking phone?” Did I mention I was often a dick? I justified it by my need to ensure there were no personal lines crossed or blurred. I couldn’t afford such a luxury in a place where my reputation and billable hours were everything.

She turned pink.

I shouldn’t have glanced up at her to witness the pretty blush on her face.

She took a breath, brushing her brown hair back behind her ear. I noticed she did this gesture as a nervous habit. “For both. I needed you to take the call from your mother, but I’m sure there were better ways to accomplish it.”

Probably, but seeing her stand up to me had been a very unexpected turn-on. Now it was time to reestablish our boundaries. “Yes, there were. Also you called me Liam.” And I’d enjoyed the sound of my name on her lips way too much. Once, I’d seen her applying strawberry lip balm, and it had made me wonder if she’d taste like it. “Let’s not make calling me by my first name a habit.”

If she was irritated, she hid it well. I imagined she had perfected this art since working for me. I wasn’t easy to deal with.

“Understood, Mr. Davenport. You mentioned the upcoming week? What do you want to discuss?”

To the point. She was always to the point. I respected the fact she didn’t waste time.

“I need to travel home.”

“Okay. When and where?”

“We can fly into Roanoke, Virginia, or Beckley, West Virginia. Whatever is the easiest route from LAX. From there, we’ll need a rental car.”

She wrote into the notepad she always carried and looked up. “We. Is someone traveling with you?”

This was quite possibly the worst or best idea I’d ever had. “Yes. You.”

I had the pleasure of watching her face flush again, this time with her big brown eyes going wide. Reason number ninety-two it was probably a bad idea to take her with me. But I had no other idea what else I could do if I hoped to get the deposition prep done while dealing with my family and the funeral. I had to have her assisting me.

“It’s your personal travel, and no offense, but I don’t think I should go with you to your father’s funeral.”

“For me it’s personal, but for you it’ll be all business. Are you not available to travel?”