Conflicted Page 3

  But it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have a travel companion.

  Cole was presenting a segment on how to build a successful client base using technology. He dictated the things he wanted included in the presentation as I typed it and set it up. He sent me facts and figures and tables to include, and I set to work on creating a stunning visual presentation.

  My phone rang, and I saw that it was Cole calling from his office. “Hi, Mr. Benson.”

  “Ms. Cleary, I was just informed of a working dinner tonight. Are you available for notes?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Fine.” He ended our call.

  I’d gone to two other working dinners with Cole in the short time he’d been my boss, and the food had been spectacular. But the best part was that he paid me overtime. So I got a free dinner at a nice restaurant plus extra pay, and all I had to do was memorize whatever was discussed, type up some notes, and send them to him by morning.

  I rushed home at five o’clock to change and freshen up. A kind boss might’ve let me go early so I had time to change, but not Cole. I rushed around, throwing on deodorant over a sweaty body and brushing my hair so fast I ripped painfully through a knot.

  I picked out a new dress I’d bought, a springy white one with yellow flowers and a white belt around the waist. My favorite feature was that it even had pockets, the perfect place for my cell phone and keys.

  I applied some shiny lip gloss and headed back toward the office. Cole had asked me to be back no later than half past six, and I rolled in with two minutes to spare, arriving at my desk right on time.

  He was waiting outside his office door, standing with his arms folded as he leaned against the frame. He looked like a damn book cover standing there. He gazed at me for a moment, his eyes roving over my dress and down to my heels. I braced myself for some comment from him, wishing I could read him better. I wanted him to see me the way I saw him. I wanted him to think I was pretty. I wanted him to want me.

  Wait. Where had that thought come from?

  I hated that I had a crush on him.

  Sure, John and I had our problems. Sure, I may have had a tiny (huge) crush on my boss. Sure, I thought about him constantly and wondered what it would be like to run my fingers through his wavy black hair.

  But I was a faithful wife.

  Just because I found Cole sexy didn’t mean I would act on it.

  But having that thought—that thought that I wanted him to do something about it, to touch me, to tell me how beautiful I was, to want me…that felt like cheating.

  An immediate wave of guilt washed over me.

  I wasn’t sure where these feelings were coming from, but I thought maybe it was for wanting something I couldn’t have. Or maybe because I’d been ignored at home for so long.

  He glanced at the expensive watch he wore on his wrist and then his eyes met mine. “Cutting it close as usual, Ms. Cleary. I can’t be late tonight.”

  “My apologies, sir.” Why the hell was I apologizing when I was on time? I hadn’t done anything wrong.

  He sighed and turned toward the door. “Let’s go.” He started walking and his arm brushed mine on his way by. He never touched me in any way, so the accidental contact sent a spike of adrenaline through my stomach.

  I grabbed my iPad off my desk and then followed behind him. We took the elevator down, my legs silently thanking him for taking the elevator instead of the stairs. I blew out a breath, grateful that I’d made it on time and hadn’t had to endure too much wrath.

  A black Ford Expedition was waiting at the curb for us. Cole opened the door and ushered me in before getting in behind me.

  He tapped away on his phone and barked orders at me as the car moved toward our destination. “We’ll be meeting with Lincoln Mathers from MTC Industries, his wife Alexis, and two other executives from the company. Pay attention when they introduce themselves because I don’t know their names and I’ll need you to draft a follow up tomorrow. Questions?”

  I shook my head, ready to be the very best assistant he could ever ask for. I was still thinking of the Assistant of the Year bonus, and events like these were my time to shine.

  We pulled up to Vine, a fancy restaurant where I’d always dreamed of eating but could never afford on my own. It was one of those places I only read about in the celebrity gossip magazines.

  A hostess led us to a table, checking out Cole on the way. I didn’t blame her. His ass was on point in that suit. She sat us in a cozy, round corner booth, and Cole slid in, leaving the end for me. He wasn’t doing it to be nice, though—he wanted to be closer to the client. I just hoped I’d be able to hear the conversation from where I sat.

  As I slid in beside him, I accidentally bumped my knee against his. He glanced over at me, and where I expected annoyance, I found something else when our eyes met.

  Okay, my imagination was working overtime. There was no way Cole Benson was giving me the eye.

  But would it really be so bad if he was?

  And holy shit, he still hadn’t moved his knee. I broke our eye contact first, and then I moved my knee. I wasn’t sure if he was subtly flirting with me or if he was asserting his dominance over me.

  It had to be dominance. Cole would never flirt with his lowly assistant. He usually looked at me like I was barely good enough to serve him coffee.

  I focused all my attention on the menu rather than the fact that my knee had touched Cole’s and he hadn’t moved his. I opted for a chicken dish and a glass of white wine while Cole studied his phone.

  I couldn’t wait for my wine to arrive. Truthfully, I worked better after a glass took the edge off. I’d remember the details of the night better because I wouldn’t be feeling self-conscious as I sat next to my sex-god of a boss and his sexy knee.

  The hostess led four more people to our table, and introductions began. I scooted out so Cole could stand to introduce himself. Lincoln Mathers was an attractive older man, and his wife was much younger than him. She could’ve passed for a Victoria’s Secret model. The two others were company executives named Dean Humphry and Nathan Leonard. I stared at their faces, trying mnemonic devices to remember their names. I wished I could write this shit down.

  Once our orders were placed and the drinks began to flow, I focused on the conversation. Mainly Cole and Lincoln were talking, which was helpful so I didn’t have to remember what five different people were saying. Dean and Nathan observed as Cole gave Lincoln the hard sell.

  Cole’s hard sell sounded the same as usual, so I focused on Lincoln’s responses. He seemed receptive, but Cole didn’t pay me to give my opinions on his client’s disposition.

  Apart from the knee incident, I had basically no other interaction with Cole. I noticed Alexis staring my way with sympathy more than once, but I didn’t want her pity. I forced a bright smile and moved my attention back to the conversation.

  “Get me numbers first thing in the morning, Benson. Your company has great talent, but as you know, money talks. If your bid comes in below your competitors, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  When I heard Lincoln speak those words at the end of the meal, I knew I had a long night ahead of me. Cole would need me to draft a contract while he calculated the costs and tried to pinpoint a lower number than his competitors.

  When Cole needed to calculate costs, it always took longer than it should. I’d already started mentally adding and subtracting. I didn’t know the money side of the business the way my boss did, but I had a fairly good grasp on it from working with contracts. I was confident that together we could come up with a number that would be fair and competitive.

  Once Cole took care of the check and we sat in the back of the Expedition, I took out the iPad to notate the evening. Cole’s attention was glued to his phone until I looked up and his eyes were on me.

  I smiled awkwardly, surprised at his attention. He’d become fairly prone to ignoring my existence except when he needed me to do something for him, so seeing him ga
ze at me with no context was quite out of the ordinary.

  He didn’t smile back, and something in his expression changed. It had to be the darkness in the backseat of the Expedition. I was crazy to think I may have caught a hint of heat in his gaze, but then he turned his head and stared out the window with a heavy sigh, breaking the moment between us.

  “I thought tonight went well,” I said, trying to cut into the tension he’d created.

  “Just have to figure out that magic number now.” He said it quietly and without turning his head from the window.

  “I can help in the morning.”

  “I need it tonight.”

  I glanced at the clock on the top of my iPad. It was getting late. Dinner ran longer than I’d expected.

  But what did I have waiting for me at home? Maybe a husband—if he was home—who wouldn’t bother saying more than two words to me if he was so inclined to rip his eyes away from whatever device he was working on?

  “Then I’ll help you tonight.”

  “Shouldn’t you go home to your husband?”

  The mention of my husband sent an icy regret down my spine.

  “He’s fine. I want to help you. The details from the night are fresh in my mind now. They’ll fade by morning.”

  He finally turned from the window, but only in order to glare at me. “I pay you to make sure they don’t fade.”

  I held up my iPad. “That’s what this is for.” I smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. It was futile. Despite the success of the evening, Cole was in as bad a mood as ever.

  The Expedition pulled up to the front of our building, and Cole got out. He stood beside the door while I scooted out the same door he’d used.

  “It’s late. Go home,” he said tiredly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I just need to pop upstairs to finish my notes and drop off my iPad.”

  “Fine.”

  I followed as he strode toward the elevator. He pressed the button and we waited in silence for it to arrive.

  I tried to think of something—anything—to say, some piece of trivial conversation to try to break into the awkward wall between us, but I came up short.

  My biggest problem when I felt uncomfortable was my tendency to ramble. Cole Benson did something different to me. I was struck speechless in his presence. I was too busy dreaming of what he kept hidden under his expensive suits to figure out something to say.

  The elevator arrived and the doors opened. We walked in together, and as soon as the doors closed, the air shifted. The tight, enclosed space grew warm with a new kind of tension between us, and I found myself thinking about his lips. His full, velvety lips.

  I wondered what sorts of talented things he could do with those lips.

  And the tongue that he kept hidden behind those lips. I wondered where on my body I would like the feel of his tongue best.

  Over the weeks I’d been working for him, I’d noticed Cole’s tongue several times. When he was deep in concentration pouring over contracts, reading emails, or pondering a specific campaign, his tongue peeked out from between his lips.

  Every single time I caught a glimpse of that tongue, I couldn’t help but put it to use in my mind’s fantasies. I imagined his tongue dancing against mine. I imagined it licking its way from my ankle to my knee to my thigh to my center. I imagined it caressing my ear, whispering across my nipple, grazing my hipbone.

  The elevator felt suddenly too small. I waved my hand in front of my face, fanning myself as I tried to cool down.

  Cole’s eyes were on me. I could feel them, but I refused to acknowledge them.

  I wanted to look at him. I wanted to see his eyes on me. I wanted to feel like he didn’t hate me. I wanted to feel like he wanted me as much as I wanted him.

  I couldn’t want him.

  I didn’t want him.

  I hated him.

  I was married.

  I snuck a peek at him in the mirrored reflection of the elevator doors. His body was turned in my direction, but his head faced forward. Body language spoke loudly, though. The way he was turned in toward me suggested that maybe he didn’t dislike me as much as he acted like he did.

  Our eyes met in the reflection as a soft sheen of perspiration broke out on my forehead.

  I shouldn’t have been in an elevator on my way up to the office alone with my hot boss. I should’ve just taken my iPad home with me, typed up my notes, and gotten in bed beside the man I married.

  Instead, I found myself wanting Cole to kiss me and touch me in a tiny elevator too late at night.

  I broke our eye contact.

  Being attracted to somebody was one thing, but in that moment on the elevator, I wanted to act on it. I wanted to feel that tongue I’d been fantasizing about moving against my body.

  I wanted something to make me feel alive again.

  If I acted on it, though, I’d not be just potentially ruining my career. I’d also be potentially ruining my marriage.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As we exited the elevator, I had no idea what to expect. I saw several potential outcomes. In one scenario, Cole swept all the papers and office supplies off my desk in a dramatic movie-inspired moment and took me right there in the empty office. In another scenario, he had me pressed up against the windows overlooking the skyscrapers of Los Angeles.

  The thought that he wouldn’t act on that random, steamy moment in the elevator never crossed my mind.

  And the scenario that actually happened also never entered my mind.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Cole said to an unreasonably gorgeous blonde woman sitting in one of the chairs across from my desk. She wore a tight, black dress that left very little to the imagination, and I suddenly felt very juvenile in my sundress with flowers all over it.

  “You said you’d be coming back to the office after your dinner,” she said, her voice low and sultry.

  He gave her an irritated look before glancing back over at me. I noticed he looked at her with a different irritation than he reserved for me on a daily basis. “Get in my office,” he growled at her.

  I had to wonder if he was going to use the blonde to dispel the sexual tension that had thickened the air of the elevator around us.

  I had no business wondering it, and I should’ve been relieved that an obstacle had presented itself. Whoever she was, she’d stopped me from making a mistake, one that I certainly had never even considered making before.

  He followed her into his office and slammed the door. I sat at my desk, shoved my disappointment out of my mind, and typed my notes from the evening. I did a few basic calculations, emailed my notes and my numbers to Cole, and bolted out of there before I had a chance to hear what might go on between the two of them.

  Except for the days Cole was a total tyrant, I actually liked my job. I was good at it, and it wasn’t something that came easily overnight. I’d worked hard to get where I was, and I wasn’t going to let some dumb crush ruin it.

  I’d put Cole out of my mind. I’d force myself to get over my attraction to him, I’d talk to John, and I’d get everything back on track.

  Besides, I was being totally silly. I didn’t know why I thought just because he’d been looking at me in the elevator reflection that he suddenly wanted me. It was ridiculous.

  I saw John’s car in the parking lot. I assumed he’d be home since it was after eleven, and when my mind drifted to Cole and that blonde, I immediately banished the thought and the jealousy that paired with it.

  I’d read somewhere once that it took two weeks to make something a habit, so if I forced myself to think of John every time Cole entered my mind for two weeks, then maybe I wouldn’t think of Cole anymore. Maybe all this time I was to blame for the rift between John and me. Our marriage might not be such a mess if I’d put more focus on the two of us and less focus on work.

  John was in front of the television when I walked in.

  “Hey,” I said, setting my purse down on the counter.

/>   “Hey.”

  I sauntered into the kitchen and poured myself a large glass of wine. I sat down on the couch beside him, taking a few gulps of wine before turning to study him. “How was your day?”

  He glanced over at me. His green eyes seemed surprised to see me sitting beside him. He ran a hand through his short, dirty blond hair. “Fine.”

  I sighed. “Mine was fine, too.” My voice came out a touch more annoyed than I’d planned it to, but for God’s sake, it was a common courtesy to ask someone how her day was in return.

  Another look of surprise met me.

  “John, we need to talk.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “What’s going on between us?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I mean things have changed. We used to talk and do things. We used to love each other. Now it’s like we’re roommates who don’t even like each other.”

  “You don’t like me anymore?”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes. “That’s your takeaway?”

  “We’re fine.”

  “Fine. We’re fine. My day was fine. Everything’s always fine, John.”

  “Yeah, it is. Where is this coming from?”

  “It’s coming from months of frustration. From you ignoring me when I walk in the door. From me not caring to ask about your day beyond your ‘fine.’” From me having a really strong attraction to another man.

  I left that last part out, but it probably needed to be said. Maybe then he’d realize the gravity of the situation and he’d say more than one word to me, because our marriage certainly wasn’t fine.

  “Do you really want to hear about my day?” he asked.

  I nodded. That wasn’t what this was about, necessarily, but we had to start somewhere.

  “I went on a call to an office this morning. Their server crashed, and I spent a couple of hours fixing the problem. I went to Burger King for lunch, where I had a Whopper and a Coke. No fries. I went back to the office and logged my work, got to work on a new website, had a meeting with two managers, and worked on the video game software I’ve been developing. Then I came home.”

  The television blared in the background, but we’d made a tiny step in the right direction. We’d at least gotten the ball rolling on conversation. I knew if I told him to turn it off, he’d just think I was nagging him.