“But you’ll still be my boss’s boss.”
“Yes…” I tapped the papers, “but it’s written into the contract that I’m not allowed to address anything about you. I have no say in hiring or firing. Nothing about your workload or pay. I’ve cleared it with Stu, our in-house counsel, and HR.”
She picked up the papers and started looking through them. I kept quiet as she read. I’d told her what to expect. Now, she needed to see it for herself. Process it in a matter-of-fact way, separate from the connection between the two of us.
After a few minutes, she raised her head. “It says in here that the contract is indefinite.”
“It is,” I said. “Either you or Stu can choose to end it at any time, but we will require you to train any replacement.”
She nodded. “That seems fair enough. And Stu is all right with this?”
“I think he’s actually relieved with this arrangement.” One side of my mouth curved. “He wants to protect you.”
“From you?” She sounded surprised.
“From the rich boss who could force you to do things by threatening to terminate your employment. As if I would do something like that.”
She laughed, her eyes sparkling. “You did tell me I had to go to that event with you. And you did fire me.”
“Points taken.”
Our gazes held for several long seconds, and then she spoke again. “All I have to do is sign?”
I nodded. “Sign it, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“And what about the non-work stuff?” she asked.
“I’d like us to have dinner tonight to discuss all of that.”
She held out a hand. “Give me a pen.”
Six
Ashlee
I’d been pleasantly surprised at how easy the transition was at work. I’d anticipated more stares and whispers. People speculating about where I’d been and why I was back. I’d even anticipated Mr. Hancock and Ms. Lamas treating me differently because they knew about my contract, and I was fairly certain that at least Mr. Hancock knew why Nate had wanted me hired as a freelancer.
Except no one had even looked at me twice, and Mr. Hancock had given me a better desk. I wondered what the official story had been about my absence, but I preferred not knowing if the alternative was to ask about it.
I’d spent most of the day trying to reconstruct what had been lost. It had been a lot of information, but fortunately, I had a good memory. Once I’d tugged on the right thread, I’d taken myself down the same path I’d been on before. It was going to take me a while to get everything back, but I was making good progress.
Still, all the progress in the world wasn’t going to keep me from being nervous about my date tonight. It was going to be the first time the two of us would be out in public at a non-work function. No one who saw us tonight would think we were doing anything but going on a date. If we did this – when we did this – there’d be no going back.
Tonight was also step one in us separating work from our personal life. We could have left straight from work together, but we’d both decided that it’d be better if he picked me up at my place. Which was why I was currently standing next to my couch, wondering if my nerves would let me sit down and try to relax.
Somehow, I doubted it.
I’d worn the nicest thing I owned for the party I’d gone to with him before, but I had a couple things that would work for dinner. I loved my little black dresses, especially the one I was wearing tonight. Clingy material that hugged my curves almost too much. A hem that stopped two inches above my knees. A halter top that showed almost all of my back and quite a bit of cleavage too, but not tacky. It was easily one of the most revealing dresses I had, and I only wore it when I felt comfortable in my own skin.
I was beginning to doubt tonight was going to be one of those nights.
Then someone knocked on the door, and I was out of time. A look through the peephole confirmed it was Nate and another swarm of butterflies took off in my stomach. He was in a black suit that had been perfectly tailored for him and a silver tie I was fairly sure cost more than my dress.
I opened the door and gestured for him to come inside. He did, giving me a leisurely once over from my head to my feet and then back up again, a look that had enough weight to it that it felt almost as real as his hands would have.
“You look amazing, le soleil.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“So do you.” I fingered his lapel, enjoying the fine texture of his jacket before reaching up to put my hand on his cheek. Scruff chafed against my skin and sent a shiver down my spine. “You didn’t shave.”