Page 49 of Unlocking my Boss's Heart

After my conversation with Maddison, worries about continuing to date Anton, despite all his reassurances, only deepened. So,I asked him to come over to the apartment to talk before I returned to work.

Maddison was heading out to give us some privacy.

I watched her grab her phone and keys. “You know you can stay in your room while we talk.”

“You know that won’t work,” she replied. “I’m too nosy to sit still. I would end up interrupting you a million times and eventually just be a nuisance.”

“I hate to keep you from your place.”

Maddison rolled her eyes. “You’re not keeping me away. Besides, mi casa es su casa, right? Promise me you’ll be good. I’ll even bring you a slice of pie from Mrs. Woods.”

“Promise.”

At the door, she turned back. “Just be honest with him, and don’t let it turn into an argument. I would hate to have to clean his blood off my walls.”

I groaned and pushed her gently out the door, finding myself alone in the silent living room. As Anton's arrival drew near, my stomach knotted with nerves. It’d been easier to discuss things with Maddison.

I sank onto the couch, rehearsing how to express my worries to him.

For starters, as coworkers, we weren't as productive in my opinion as we should, because of this relationship. My plan to climb the lawyer's ladder would suffer, and I knew people would question my qualifications if they knew I was dating the boss.

Then, there was the issue of the baby.

Children required constant love and attention, and I never wanted to put Anton in a position where he felt he had to choose between spending time with me or his child.

The entire ordeal had given me too many sleepless nights; it was better to call things off now before we became too attached—before the heartbreak became even more unbearable.

His knock came just then.

“Hey,” I greeted when I opened the door.

“Hi.” Anton kissed my cheek. He walked into the living room and turned to face me. “Are you okay? You look a little…pale.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, my voice a mere whisper of how I felt inside. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

He raised an eyebrow, a silent question hanging between us, but he didn’t voice it. Instead, he smiled softly. “Of course.” He waited for me to sit on the couch before sitting beside me. “So, you said you wanted to talk?”

“Yes, one second.” I got up and walked to the kitchen.

I rummaged around, looking for nothing in particular, just nervous.

For the first time, his presence felt large and almost intimidating. He’d never appeared unapproachable before, even during the interview. This was so different from the comforting aura we had at our first meeting in the bookstore, where his presence was soothing. Now, he seemed more like an adversary than a friend. It was as if I was facing a seasoned attorney in a courtroom.

My throat felt dry. I grabbed a bottle of water and took a sip.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked, my voice a little too high-pitched.

“I’m okay. You didn’t invite me here just for a drink, Celia.”

His directness took me aback.

“Yes. That’s true.”

He watched every move I made, waiting patiently for me to come back to the couch. I hesitated, unable to think clearly with him being so close. Why did he have to be so handsome? My mind wandered to the moments of passion we’d shared, but I quickly pushed those thoughts aside. If I was going to end things, I couldn’t afford such distraction.

“Let’s talk, Celia,” he coaxed gently. “Ask me anything. I’m an open book, I promise.”

Gathering my courage, I walked back and stood a few feet from where he sat.

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