Chapter 9

Thomas leaves, to get a desk, to pack his stuff, to comb his perfect hair. Or do whatever it is rich, spoiled cover models do. I don't care. With him gone, I can finally let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

I cross the lab and shut myself into my office, enjoying the last few hours of peace before this space becomes a full-fledged co-ed.

What a joke.

It's incredible how much a place can feel different in just a short few hours. Work used to be my sanctuary, my happy place, and now it's a minefield. My preservation instincts should've kicked in, helping me to steer clear of Thomas Mercer's exceptionally powerful gravitational field. But, so far, the only impulse that's kicked in is the grab-the-boss-by-the-tie-and…

No. No. Nope. Good thing we have a specific company policy against such interactions.

Technically, he isn't your boss, yet,a malicious voice whispers in my ear. There's no policy against peer-to-peer relationships.

But he will be the boss in fifteen months—same thing.

I drop my head in my hands. Gosh, the next three months are going to be hell. But then Thomas Mercer will be someone else's problem. Up until the point when he'll become CEO. Then he'll become a permanent complication. But at least then, we'll have an extra layer between us. Emmet Proctor and I sure don't talk every day or share an office. It'll be manageable. A few review meetings, the odd interaction, the annual Christmas party…

A very unpleasant kind of foreboding grips me. What if he shows up to the party with a beautiful plus one? Yuck. The idea shouldn't be disturbing, but it is. Heck, I'm not even sure if he's single right now—and I'm not going to google it. Better not to know. That Google probably has that information should be enough of a red flag. And he probably isn't single, anyway. How can someone with a face like that be single?

I shove the unsettling thoughts aside, dust my hands in a resigned move, and get to work. I create a shared folder for Thomas, find his company email in the directory, and grant him access. As I copy the presentation and report into the folder, I find comfort in the fact that it should take him a while to study them. At the very least until the end of the week, keeping our need for interactions to a minimum.

Honestly, he wouldn't even need to come here while he familiarizes himself with the projects. Thomas could study the reports alone in his private office. He should study on the upper floors—quieter there and easier to focus. Yes, I'll suggest it.

I've just closed the folder when someone knocks on the door.

My pulse speeds up for no reason. "Come in."

"Hey, boss." Maria pokes her head inside, and my heartbeat slows down.

"Maria, what can I do for you?"

She walks in followed by her sidekick, K-2P. "Nothing. I want to discuss Mr. Hottie McHunky."

"If you're referring to our future commander-in-chief, we've already discussed him enough this morning."

Maria crosses the office and takes her usual spot perched on my desk. "But that was before we saw the real deal; that photo didn't do him justice."

"Whatever you say."

"Why? You don't think he's more handsome in person than in his resume pic?"

"No."

Sure I do, but I won't admit it. If I give her rope, Maria will pull and pull and pull until the skin on both our hands is burned raw.

"Well, I think he is even hotter in person," she says, unabashed. "I like his eyes; don't you think they're smoldering?"

"Smoldering?" I shake my head. "You read too much smut."

"Smut is never too much, and I have no problem admitting when a guy is exceptionally sexy, broad-shouldered, very tall, with a tight butt that just begs to be grabbed and squeezed?—"

"Maria!"

"What? You don't appreciate well-rounded buttocks? The way that suit was hugging his behind should be outlawed!"

"That is no appropriate way to talk about a co-worker," I deflect, trying not to picture exactly how well that suit hugged his behind. "And Thomas Mercer isn't my type."

"He's not, huh?" Maria widens her eyes in fake shock. "I never would have guessed."

"This isn't a joke, Maria. He's not my type and we shouldn't discuss his anatomy in any capacity. What if a colleague made a comment about your butt?"

"Fair point." She raises her hands. "And if he really isn't your type."

"He's not."

Maria frowns. "Hey, it's dark in here. Why are all the blinds down?" Her lips curl into a wicked smile. "Are you already planning to lure the boss into torrid desk sex?"

"What did I just say?"

She smirks innocently. "I wasn't discussing anatomy."

I roll my eyes. "I pulled the blinds down when I changed earlier." I don't tell her about the striptease and Thomas walking in on it because I'm still her boss. I need to maintain a shred of dignity.

"The new boss walked in on her mid-strip," K-2P rats me out. "It was hilarious."

I glare at the droid.

"Hubba hubba. Did he see you naked?"

I cover my eyes with a hand and drag it down my face. "He got a peek of underwear."

"Ah, now a lot of things make sense."

"What things?"

"Why he couldn't get his—smoldering—eyes off of you. You must've made an impression."

"Yeah, the impression of a dumbass who almost flashed her boss! And he wasn't looking at me in any way."

"I beg to disagree, boss. Thomas Mercer was totally checking you out the entire time. He gave you the look."

"He gave me a look because we were talking and to look at someone while they speak to you is the polite thing to do. No way he finds me hot." I point at my baggy hoodie as incontrovertible proof of my non-hotness.

"Agree to disagree." Maria hugs herself. "You're smokin' hot, even with lumpy clothes on."

"That's not what I need to hear right now."

"Just try to be cool, I'm sure he won't hold the striptease against you. The guy seems very laid-back for a rich dude. None of that snobbery, or looking down his nose at the rest of us. But he's also confident, self-assured." Maria fans herself with her hands. "Did you see the way he squared off with Garrett? My panties were about to drop from the sheer masculinity of it. Don't tell me you didn't find the staring contest hot as hell."

Even if I want to confess that, yes, I found the silent power play incredibly sexy, I'm not going to. I can't afford to entertain such thoughts about my future boss, let alone voice them out loud.

"Maria, stop," I chide. "He's going to become our boss next year, it's not appropriate to speak about him like that."

"All right, I'll stop if you admit he's even more handsome in person than he is in his photo."

"Who's more handsome in person than his photo?" a baritone voice asks.

Heart beating in my chest, I raise my gaze and find Thomas leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, dimpled smile fully weaponized.

I swallow. What are the chances he didn't hear us discuss his panties-melting superpowers?