Chapter 10

W e're the only ones on the elevator ride down, which makes sense because it's really late. I'm tense everywhere, doing my best to ignore how isolated we are. He hasn't bothered putting on his jacket, so it rests over his forearm. I'm still reeling from the fact that I'll have a temporary desk in his office. Frankly, I still think it's some kind of long-winded joke he's pulling on me. No way he means it.

"I'm sorry for keeping you here so late," he says, breaking the silence in the small space. "I hope you didn't have any plans."

There's no point in guilt-tripping him for a decision I made myself, so I reply, "Nothing that couldn't be rescheduled." Then, I impulsively ask, "Are you sure you want me to work in your office?"

"It'll only be for a month. Two at best. Just enough time for us to get the ball rolling."

I face the stainless steel door again with a, "Hmm…"

He leans to the side toward me, and when I gaze up, he's holding back a smirk. "I swear I'll try not to insult you too often."

The self-deprecation in his voice makes a giggle bubble in my chest. Maybe he isn't as conceited as I thought.

Moments later, we reach the lobby. "Are you okay getting home?" he asks.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure the buses do their routes until midnight."

"I can drop you off if you want."

Although the offer is both generous and tempting, there's no way I'll sit with him in his car for twenty minutes. "I'm good, thanks." Before he can insist, I step out. "I'll see you on Monday," I say, forcing a smile. "Enjoy your weekend."

"You too. Thank you again for your time."

Seriously, I'm not getting used to this man being polite and pleasant .

A sense of relief fills me when the panels close behind me. Phew… I did it! I survived an entire evening by his side without spontaneous combustion or a heated argument. I need an underwear change, though.

My satisfaction goes to shit when I reach the revolving doors. It's raining cats and dogs. Fuck. Since it's not like I have a choice, I step out and walk at a quick pace, desperate to reach the bus stop before I'm soaked to the bone. Thankfully, my computer bag is waterproof, so I'm not risking much more than a cold. The street is eerily empty, without a car or person in sight. I'm reaching the corner of the building when a sleek gray car, a Mercedes halfway between a sedan and a sports car, slows down next to me. Just as I'm about to pick up the pace, the passenger window opens.

"Get in, Andrea. I'll drop you off at your bus stop."

Oh, fuck… It's him .

"I'm good," I answer. I don't like commanding tones, which is another reason why our dynamic is complicated.

"Stop being so stubborn for half a second and get in."

When I halt my steps, he hits the brakes. As we determinedly stare at each other, I try to remember why I shouldn't get into his car. Maybe I'm overreacting a little bit.

I know I'm just being stubborn again, like he said, so I bite my tongue and obey for once. My face is a mask of discontent as I walk to his car, and it remains that way as I enter the luxurious vehicle.

"You take your bus on Pike Street?" he asks. I nod, my eyes on the windshield wipers, rhythmically chasing raindrops.

He switches to Drive, and we're off. I know nothing about cars, but this one's high-end for sure. Even the blinker sound is lush. Alexander's driving is pleasant and experienced, and I sometimes glance at his hands smoothly gliding over the steering wheel. I can't help but wonder how those strong fingers and palms would feel on my skin, grazing it like that.

What stage of craziness is it when you wish you were a steering wheel?

I'm somehow disappointed when we reach my bus stop. As I'm about to get out, he stops me, putting his hand over my forearm. The simple contact sends shivers all the way to my chest, and I look toward where he's pointing.

The electronic sign where the bus times are usually displayed only reads three fateful words. STRIKE! SERVICE INTERRUPTED.

Defeated, I blow out my cheeks before throwing my head back. "I can drive you home," he kindly offers.

For the umpteenth time this evening, he's unusually amiable, and I want to grab his shoulders and shake him out of it. It's so much simpler when he's a one-dimensional jerk. If my body acts the way it does when he's rude and arrogant, how will it behave if he turns out to be a nice guy?

"I'll get myself an Uber," I suggest. But that solution quickly falls flat. With the bus strike, everyone's using such alternatives. I'd have to wait for forty-five minutes to get a ride home.

"I really don't mind," Lex insists, seemingly amused by my misfortune.

"I don't want you to make a detour for me."

"Where do you live?"

"Genesee." Please, let him live on the other side of town.

"That works for me."

Well, fuck… This is awkward, tense, and not how I expected tonight to go.

My boss is driving me home on a late Friday evening with my address on his GPS and my wet ass sitting on the fine leather of his seat. Wet because of the rain, of course. Not because of the way his hands move every time he takes a turn or because the surrounding air smells of him.

Okay, maybe a bit of that, too.

There's a play button on the electronic screen between us, and because the silence is so uncomfortable, I boldly press it.

"Resuming the current playlist," the feminine electronic voice answers.

Fuck, I expected it to turn on the radio or something. But I can now see that it's connected to his phone. I'm about to know even more about the man, which can't be a good thing.

When I turn to him, I notice his discreet wince. "I don't mind. But you might regret your decision. I've been told I have terrible taste in music," he confesses, never ripping his eyes from the road.

Oh, this should be interesting…

My curiosity is properly piqued, and all my attention is now on the intro that fills the silence. I'm almost ashamed of how quickly I recognize it. But it's so unexpected that I doubt myself for several seconds. This can't be it. No fucking way.

But there's no denying it. It's "Rasputin", by Boney M. The giggle that rolls in my throat turns into a graceless snort when I try to muffle it. I press my hand over my lips in a failed attempt to hide my wide smile.

"Are you making fun of me?" he asks.

"I'm sorry, it'll pass. I just really wasn't expecting that."

"What were you expecting? "

The genuine curiosity in his tone makes me consider the question. Probably something boring, like classical music or jazz, but I can't tell him that. "I didn't expect Boney M," I diplomatically say.

With a broad smile still on my face, I look out my window, listening to the catchy tunes. The words dance on my lips, but I don't allow them to be voiced.

He still notices. "You made fun of me, yet you know the words."

"Of course I know them—everybody does. I just really didn't think you listened to it."

"Maybe we should stop before another song starts," he suggests.

And that only triggers my need to know what comes next. I press the button to skip "Rasputin", and, to my amazement and hilarity, "Build Me Up Buttercup" resonates in the car. A new series of chuckles escapes me.

"If you're going to mock me the entire way, I'd rather we go with silence," he argues as we're stopped at a red light.

His hand flies to the screen to stop the music. Instinctively—clearly without thinking—I grab his wrist to prevent him from pressing the button. "No! I swear, I'm not making fun of you. I love those songs. It's just unexpected."

My fingers are wrapped around his wrist, and my other hand rests over the back of his. I can't help but notice that his wrist is as thick as my ankles. If there is a correlation between the size of a man's hand and the proportions of his appendage, then Lex is seriously hung.

And it's suddenly all I can think of.

How big, girthy, and long his—

A car honks somewhere, making me jump and release him. My cheeks are burning, and I hope to God he blames my redness on the traffic light. I swiftly slide my hands under my thighs in an attempt to keep them away from temptation.

I can feel his stare on my profile, but I keep mine up front. The light turns green, but he doesn't do anything about it, so I force myself to look his way. His expression is unreadable, as usual, his gaze locked onto mine. The exchange doesn't last long, but it feels as if his gray irises can see past my brown ones straight into my soul, reading my thoughts and desires.

Despite my best efforts, I can't look away from his entrancing eyes. This man has a magnetic pull on me that I cannot comprehend.

He gets over whatever's happening first, refocusing on the road and putting us back on our way to my place. The rest of the ride occurs without another word between us. Music is still playing, joyful and catchy, but it isn't enough to appease the tension .

As soon as we reach my building, I grab the handle. "Thank you for the ride," I say, hating how shaken I sound. "Sorry for the detour."

He keeps looking forward before turning to me. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

With one last forced smile, I pull on the handle to exit the car. It's still pouring outside, so I run to my entrance and urge myself not to look back and enter the lobby.

Shit… That was weird, and tense, and strangely sexy. I'm feeling electric, and I don't know what to make of it.

Unless he changes his mind, I'll have to spend my working days in the same room as that man.

If that's not a recipe for disaster, I don't know what is.

M y weekend isn't very restful. Which is to be expected, given how many things are plaguing my mind. First, I missed my date with Oli, which earns me some scolding from Tami. Second, my obsession with my boss has grown substantially, which is terrible. Third, I'm expected to spend even more time around said boss. Fourth, I had another vividly realistic wet dream about the man.

The future's looking really bright.

Somehow, when I get to work on Monday, there's another parameter that I forgot to account for. "So," Steven tells me, spinning his chair to face me when I arrive, "not even here for a month, and you're already working upstairs with the boss?"

It's a joke. I know it is, but it still makes my insides churn. From their point of view, it must look so suspicious. Especially knowing how Alexander is. I didn't realize the news would spread so quickly. But my computer isn't on my desk anymore, so it makes sense they had questions.

"I explained the situation," Oliver says. "They can't wait to see the app you've created."

"Trust me," I say to Steven, eager to clarify things, "I'd rather be here with you guys than upstairs with him."

"Well, that's nice to hear," says a deep voice behind me.

Ah, shit …

I slowly spin around, worriedly glancing at Lex, but he doesn't give me any attention and turns to the guys instead. "When the rest of your colleagues arrive, I want all six of you in the conference room. We'll rearrange a few things for the weeks to come." Without another word, he leaves us .

About five minutes later, when Brian and Joseph arrive, we all head to the conference room, as instructed. It's nearly full already, with more people still filtering in. Lex is talking with a man I have seen before but never met—Kevin Langley, Kelex's co-owner. He's slightly shorter than Lex, his body is leaner, and his blond hair is neatly combed back while his face is closely shaven. The man is devilishly handsome, but not in the same way as his business partner. Alexander is dark and mysterious, while the other man is luminous and refined. The other big difference is that he's wearing a three-piece suit, while Alexander is back in his usual T-shirt and jeans. The contrast between the two men is striking, which makes the apparent familiarity between them somehow surprising.

The nerds greet our bosses before sitting or standing around the large table. Alexander waves for me to come closer, so I comply.

"Kev, this is Andrea Walker," he says. "Andrea, this is Kevin Langley."

"I can't believe we haven't met sooner. It's great to finally put a face to the name, Andrea."

"Andy, please. And yes, ditto. I've heard a lot about you," I greet back, shaking his hand.

"Lex tells me you're quite the genius with a keyboard," he continues. The compliment boosts my ego, and the utter pride I feel warms me all over. I glance at the object of the discussion, who's already busy talking to Steven and Brian.

"Well, he never used the word genius in front of me," I retort.

"Ah, you'll have to excuse my old friend. While he might be the smartest man I know, he is most certainly not the sharpest one when it comes to people. He's a good guy deep down, though, I promise."

He gives me an impish wink and then guides me to a couple of empty chairs.

The room rapidly falls silent as we sit, all because of Alexander's commanding authority. He doesn't even have to speak to make the room shut up, and it's honestly impressive.

"We're about to acquire a new project, which will now become our number one priority," he says to the gathered crowd with a clear voice. "Starting today, a few of you will be assigned to it. I want the alpha version of this app up and running by Thanksgiving, so I expect all the involved parties to do their best to respect that deadline. Andrea, if you would," he adds, moving to the side.

What? I'm supposed to improvise a speech out of the blue? Everyone's eyes are on me, so I force myself to stand up and join him. It feels like drama club all over again.

"This is Andrea Walker, who joined the dev team three weeks ago. It's her app we're looking to purchase, so I'll let her introduce it," Lex explains, stepping to the side once he's done.

God, I hate this. Unsure what to say, I scowl at the man who just threw me under the bus. All I get in return is a firm nod, spurring me on.

"Hi," I say with a weird hand wave, my voice shaky. "So, I've created the equivalent of a voice recognition software but for sign language. The app is meant to be convenient and educational, as people will pick up a few tricks when interacting with deaf and hard of hearing interlocutors. I've also been working on implementing AI voices into the mix, and the idea is that each user can have a voice that is uniquely theirs."

I could speak about this project for three hours straight, but I doubt everyone wants to listen to technicalities. So, I keep it as short and concise as I can, focusing on the few people I know to keep my social anxiety at bay.

As soon as I'm done, Alexander takes the lead again. "I want this developed and expanded to its maximum potential. By next year, I want this app in every administrative building, museum, school, college… This will set the standard; we'll make it mandatory, a basic requirement for state-run facilities, and a necessary tool for private sectors as well."

The more he talks, the stupider I feel. I worked on this so my brother could get laid—not that he needs any help with that. And Alexander fucking Coleman is already fifty steps ahead of me, seeing the big picture I was too dumb to fathom.

The government is always trying to include disabled minorities, or at least they pretend to. It isn't so far-fetched that they would invest in such a tool so deaf and hard of hearing kids can blend in more easily in their schools, patients can communicate in hospitals, as well as visitors in administrative buildings… And the same applies to the private sector.

Even if the app doesn't sell well with civilians, which I doubt, all those facilities would still make Kelex's investment very lucrative.

I watch as Lex shares his objectives and prognostics. As always when his brain is in action, I feel myself slowly slip into naughty thoughts. But as soon as I realize it, I return my attention to the crowd. There's no way I'll be caught drooling over him by all those people.

With mild amusement, I note that most women are drinking in his words with way too much enthusiasm. The man is a snack and a half, and I'm definitely not the only one to have noticed. In the corner of my eye, I see him pass a hand through his hair, and two women bite their bottom lips .

As someone who gets wet whenever he uses a polysyllabic word or puts on his glasses, I can't even blame them.

When the meeting ends ten minutes later, Lex dismisses everyone but a few so he can explain what's expected from us with this change of plans. Consumer trials, marketing, early design, and programming are distributed among us. Kevin is also present, supervising everything and weighing in on the decisions being made. Everyone has until the end of the week to finish what they're working on or pass it to someone else. On the other end, Lex and I will start working on it immediately.

Brainstorming takes us the entire morning, and lunch break with the nerds leads to more talking about my app. Then, I begrudgingly head upstairs to my temporary shared office.

Lex is already working, which I anticipated. What I didn't expect, though, is the setup. There isn't a desk in a corner with my stuff. My computer is on the formerly empty half of his desk, facing the other way from his. I'm meant to sit diagonally to him, barely four feet away from his distracting presence.

My productivity will be shit. Utter and complete shit.

I drag my feet toward my new chair, thinking this looks like some reality TV show from hell. Lex doesn't look up from his screen yet, and I don't know if I like that or not. As I get closer, I notice documents lying across my keyboard.

"This is the contract you requested," he says when I pick it up, still focused on his screen, his glasses reflecting its light.

"Oh, right."

"Optimally, you need to sign all three copies before the day ends. Take your time reading it and tell me if you need changes to be made. I ensured your interests were protected as much as ours."

"I appreciate that, thanks."

Because it's further from him and feels like a beacon of tranquility, I grab the documents and sit on the sofa to read them. I regret that a little when I sit. Crap, I forgot how rigid it is—as rigid as its owner.

As suspected, it's all very boring to read. By the time I flip to the second page, the uncomfortable couch is becoming a problem. From there, I regularly twist and wriggle, trying to find a better position. I find it as I start the fifth page. If my abuela found me like this, she'd definitely tell me to sit straight and stop being sprawled like some sea animal washed ashore.

Reading the whole thing drains me, but I'm glad I do. A couple of clauses are a little confusing, but it's nothing important. The contract really protects me as much as them.

"Was everything clear?" Alexander asks when I come back.

"Yes, I suppose. Just a couple of sentences I didn't really get. "

"If you want me to clarify things, don't hesitate to ask."

"Have you read it?"

"I was the one sending memos to the lawyers all weekend," he explains after typing something on his keyboard. "I read it several times, and I assure you nothing could harm you."

I'm under the impression that Alexander Coleman isn't a liar. He may be chauvinistic, haughty, cold, and arrogant, but I'm almost sure he wouldn't lie.

So, with confidence, I sign everywhere I'm meant to. Once done, I tilt to the side and hand the papers to Lex.

For the first time since I came in, our eyes meet as he takes the documents. I stare at my booting screen, listening to him write on the papers. The scratchy noise of his ballpoint pen is abnormally loud in the quiet room. There's only silence for several seconds, then the clicking of his pen. The deed is done. Too late to back out.

"This one's for you," he says, slipping one of the copies under my screen. I take it and put it safely in my bag. It feels very official, and the reality of the upcoming sale sinks in.

"Is there something I should do first?" I ask, not bothering to look over my screen.

"Since several people will soon work on your scripts, you can clean them up and make everything as clear as possible," he recommends. Yes, of course, that makes sense. "I've dug up the ones we came up with a few years ago, and I'm trying to see if any of them can be added to your work."

I nod, which is useless because he can't see me. Motivated to find a distraction, I open a script and start working on it. For the entirety of the afternoon, I'm hyperaware of his presence, so close to me. Every time he types, moves, or stretches, my mind leaves whatever I'm doing to focus on him. Several times, he pauses his work to methodically crack his knuckles, one after the other, and I find myself counting each joint that pops.

Whenever he needs me to check something, I do my best not to come in physical contact with him, bending weirdly to read whatever is on his screen. I'll most definitely have back issues by the end of the month. And not because it got blown out by him.

Yes, my mind now lives in the gutter.

As soon as we reach five-thirty, I stand up, ready to bolt out. He doesn't seem ready to leave anytime soon, but there's no way I'm staying. "Good evening," I tell him, hoisting my bag onto my shoulder.

"Good evening, Andrea," he responds. I'm about to turn to the door when he adds, "Kevin wants to sign the official sale before the weekend. Friday afternoon will be devoted to the negotiations and reaching an agreement."

"Do you think it might take some of the evening, too?"

"No, it normally shouldn't." Okay, phew… I have my rescheduled date with Oli that evening.

"I advise you to have a legal counselor accompanying you for your comfort and ours," Lex continues.

"Alright, will do."

On my bus ride home with Tami and Oli, I explain how things are going and take a moment to text my blonde best friend. I don't know any lawyers in Seattle, but she might, even though she specializes in intellectual property and not corporate law. Since I don't really have a choice, I tell her I might be selling my app before the week ends.

The minute we get home, she calls back. "Hi, blondie," I greet her.

"Oh, my God! You're so sneaky. I can't believe you're selling your app! I didn't even know you were showing it to people."

"I'm sorry, K. It all happened very fast, and I didn't want to jinx it, so I didn't tell anyone. The sale isn't effective yet, but we signed a binding agreement."

"It's pretty much the same, then. When are you signing?"

"We're negotiating Friday afternoon and signing then if we settle on a price."

"And you want me to recommend a lawyer to you?"

"Yes, Le—Alexander advised me to get one."

"Well, I have someone in mind, but they aren't exactly corporate law," she explains, a little hesitant.

"At this point, I'll take anything."

"Okay, then! Just a fair warning, you'll have to sleep with them as a payment."

The way my jaw drops is almost comical, even to me. "Kate, what the—"

"Don't worry, she's hot as hell. Blonde, 5'10", amazing tits…"

Then, it all makes sense. "Oh my God, are you serious?! You really want to come to help me out?" I ask with enthusiasm.

"Yes, if you'll have me! I'll take Friday off and spend the whole weekend with you before heading back to Portland."

"Of course I'll have you, you moron! Wait, fuck."

"What?"

"I'm seeing Oli on Friday evening."

"Eh, it's fine. I'll meet up with some old law school friends."

"You have friends other than me?!" I ask, feigning shock.

"A few, but you're my main hoe, babe. Forever."

"You better remember that," I say, my seriousness cracking .

Our voices are high-pitched as we carry on, both very excited by the prospect of seeing each other so soon. She's thrilled she'll get the chance to meet Oliver, but also that she'll spend a few hours in the presence of Alexander, as she's never one to shy away from a gorgeous sight.

The fact that my partner in crime is coming to town will most certainly distract me from him.