Page 33 of Jealous Boss

First off, she’s not your sweet innocent anything.

I grit my teeth as the internal battle rages.

She’s my responsibility. At least for the next few months.

I ignore my gut clenching at the thought of what happens after those months.

“I’m ready!” She beams at me.

But I’m more interested in the number of male eyes that swivel her way when she stands from her cubicle.

More eyes track her as she steps up next to me.

My grip tightens on the handle of my briefcase and I don’t stop myself from glaring at them until they avert their eyes.

The number of good-natured “see you tomorrows” thrown at her tells me she’s well-liked in the department.

But the male interest still bothers me long after we’ve left.

9

Ethan

“Any of the guys there tried anything funny?” I ask before I can stop myself.

Her eyes widen. “What do you mean by funny? Some of them tell okay jokes, but sometimes the other guys laugh really hard and I don’t get what’s so funny. I think they may be dirty jokes? Is that what you mean?”

I groan under my breath and attempt to calm the chaos ripping free inside me.

As the elevator whisks us downstairs, I realize I’m caught in the grip of full-blown jealousy. It’s becoming par for the course with her.

I want to put her somewhere safe, then return to that office and rip out every one of their eyes for daring to look at her.

“Ethan? Is… are you okay?”

No, I’m not, I want to snarl. But I don’t want to frighten her with this monster I’m wrestling with.

“Long day. What do you feel like eating? Japanese? Thai? Or we can reheat that Italian dish you liked?”

The distraction works, thank fuck.

She shakes her head. “It was great, but I want to try something new. I want to open myself up to new experiences, you know? Besides, at La Montreux, Friday night was Spaghetti Night. I promised myself that I’ll never eat spaghetti on Fridays ever again.” She glances at me from beneath her lashes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Do you think that’s silly, Ethan?” she whispers.

My dick immediately roars to life at the way she says my name. I have to reposition my briefcase in front of my crotch to hide the fierce tent building there. How the fuck has this girl managed to exist without getting herself into serious trouble, even at boarding school?

“No, it’s not silly at all. It’s a declaration of intent, and good for you for sticking to it.”

She nods, pleased. “One of the girls got some takeout for lunch and it smelled amazing. It was Vietnamese, I think. Can we try that?”

“Sure,” I croak. “Whatever you want.”

She beams again, and something in my chest tightens.

She’s so sweet. Too fucking sweet for me.

My last two relationships broke down because my girlfriends complained that I loved my job more than I loved spending time with them. Andtheywere women who were equally addicted to their careers. They knew my ‘play hard, work harder’ethic going in and still believed I’d have time for them.

Bringing Pia anywhere near that bullet train that is my life and career would be just as good as asking her to be crushed.

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