Brazen Bossman: A Hero Club Novel, стр. 22

“Where is he now?”

“He’s in his study. He wanted to read, he said. I think he just wanted to do something to keep his brain firing. He wants to feel like he’s not broken.”

“When does he see his doctor next?” I cup the back of my neck with my hand.

“Which one?” she says with a small laugh. “We see his neurologist next week. Just as a follow-up and check-in. Hell, Nathanial, I’ve even thought about looking into holistic medicine. Anything that just might make the progression a bit slower.”

She just wants her husband back.

Over the next twenty minutes, she fills me in on every detail of how my father has been the past few days, telling me over and over that I need to talk to him, and by the time we end the call, my head is pounding. My neck is tightened with so much stress; it feels like the muscles are wound into a tight knot.

I scrub my hand over my face and pull up my calendar, finding I have a meeting in half an hour with a seller, and then I’m clear for the afternoon.

Thank fuck.

On days like this, I usually bury myself in a mountain of work until my eyes are burning from staring at my computer screen, but all I can think about right now is how badly I want to just be in the presence of one Ms. Piper Kingston.

I mean, I should at least ask her to join me for a meal right? That’s the least I can do after essentially kicking her out after she was at her most vulnerable with me. I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman, but a meal is deserved, and at the end of the day, it’s more time I get to spend staring into those beautiful eyes.

But I have to make it clear, right then and there; that it is probably for the best this stays professional. Not for my sake, but for hers.

I know how this building works. First one person finds out, then the next, and the next, and suddenly she’s being called names and looked down upon.

It’s a disgusting truth, even in this day and age, a woman can’t do the exact same things a man does without being labeled a whore.

I find her at her desk, as always, with a cup of coffee in her hand, and her earbuds firmly in place, as she works her way through some mindless filing I’m sure I saddled her with at the beginning of the week. She’s dancing in her chair, bopping her head back and forth, and mouthing the words to whatever she’s listening to.

I step closer, and she still hasn’t noticed me. I cross my arms over my chest and simply watch.

Something could have happened between the time she left my office and now that has her so relaxed and glowing, but the caveman in me likes to think this is all, one-hundred-percent, my doing.

She closes the filing cabinet she was adding files into and turns back toward the front, finally spotting me.

“Jesus fuck!” she shouts, yanks her earbuds out, and lays her head on her desk. “You scared me. Holy hell.”

I can hear her hyperventilating and see her back rising and falling with each breath and I chuckle.

“That wasn’t my intention. I just thought it was impolite to interrupt your dance party.”

She sits up and stares at me. “How long have you been standing here?”

“Long enough.” I nod to her phone. “What are you listening to?”

“Lizzo. She is good for putting you in the right frame of mind.”

“And were you in a bad frame of mind?” I arch my brow.

“Sort of.” She gathers her earbuds from the desk where she threw them and slides them into her desk drawer, along with her phone.

“Then you’ve led me directly into the reason I came to see you. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”

“What?” Her eyes have gone wide and I think her mouth dropped all the way to the floor.

I take a look around to make sure we are alone and there aren’t lingering eyes or ears at the moment and it seems we are in the clear.

“We should probably have a discussion, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, okay, yes, definitely. We should.” She nods and fiddles with a pen on her desk.

“Then it’s settled. Decide where you’d like to eat and I’ll have a car take you from here. I have a few things to take care of first, so I’ll be meeting you.”

“I have to decide what to feed the boss? That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Nah. You know what I like to taste.” I smile. “And pick your jaw up off the floor, Ms. Kingston. Someone will notice.”

Fucking hell, Lennox. Cool it with the fucking flirting, you moron.