Page 12 of Camping with the Boss

“Alex.” I smack her arm. “What would your husband think?”

“We each get one celebrity hall pass. He’d be happy I picked a billionaire.”

Monday, June 9th, 2:00 p.m.

Alex wanted to stay to catch a glimpse of Wade Darian. Like I would ever let that happen. She likes to push me out of my comfort zone. I’m already out as far as I want to be.

As I’m packing, I think about her words. If this is about me being gay, why didn’t he just say so? The more I think about it, the angrier I get. But those feelings aren’t useful. The reason doesn’t matter. This is a way for River and me to get out of debt. The only way.

Mr. Darian arrives promptly at three, looking unfairly hot. “Ready?” He hovers in the doorway, Not even glancing my way as he checks his expensive-looking watch.

He’s such a jerk. “Yes…” I try to hold in the rest, but I can’t. “I have a question.”

“Ask it on the way.” He grabs one of my bags and frowns. “Why did you pack so much? We’re only camping.”

I straighten to my full five feet eleven inches. “I didn’t know what I’d need.”

He snorts. “Have you ever been camping?”

My teeth clench tight enough to break, and I take deep breaths through my nose. “There are different levels of camping. There’s camping in a tent. Glamping?—”

“Stop. I don’t care about any of that.” He taps his watch. “I care about timeliness.”

Why is he always such a dick? I place my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Then why did you ask?” I shake my head. “Never mind. My question?—”

“Will my answer change your mind?” he asks in a voice stretched tight. His hand gripping the handle of my suitcase doesn’t appear to have any blood left in it.

I want to argue with him. To call him out. But will it change anything? I still need the money. And I still need River to keep his job. “No.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look relieved. “Then can weplease”—the word seems to be wrenched from his lips—“discuss this in the car?”

The sleek red Acura Integra looks out of place in my driveway, like it got lost on its way home from the country club. Mr. Darian stows my bags in the trunk and slips into the driver’s seat. Why did I expect him to have a driver waiting to take him wherever he wanted to go? I sink into the leather seats as he buckles up.

“Seatbelt,” he says with a curt nod.

His commanding tone grates on my nerves, and I want to remain unbuckled just to spite him. Oh hell. Is this how River feels when I tell him to put on a jacket?

Mr. Darian huffs like he’s at the end of his rope. “Seatbelt.”

What’s he going to do if I refuse? Kick me out? Put it on for me? I ignore the thrill that runs through my body at that thought. I’m being childish. I agreed to do this. And I always wear my seatbelt.

But could he not be a dick for like five minutes? At his continued glare, I snap it on and stare back at him in challenge.

Is that a smile at the corner of his mouth? He quashes it quickly. He seems to do that a lot. Hiding all his feelings except for the negative ones. Is he afraid that people will mistake him for a nice guy? No chance of that.

He did smile at Taffy. “Who’s a good kitty?”But my traitorous mind changed it to,“Who’s a good boy?”

Ugh. As if an inappropriate boner around my new boss isn’t bad enough, now I can’t stop thinking about his husky voice saying those words…to me. I could be such a good boy for him.

I shift in my seat to get comfortable—impossible—and focus on the luxury vehicle I could never afford. The black leather seats. The fancy display that could probably do your taxes for you. It’s over the top, but I sink into the luxurious leather seats and let the purring engine relax me as he shifts the car into gear and drives out of town.

His hands move deftly over the controls as he shifts gears, and I amend my earlier thought. Mr. Darian would never have a driver. He likes to be in control.

A powerful man driving a powerful car. Is there anything sexier than that?

He doesn’t talk, and I’m not sure if he’s lost in his thoughts or just averse to conversation. The silence is mostly comfortable,and I don’t break it by bringing up my concerns. Plenty of time for that later.

We drive east on I-70 toward St. Louis. The westbound traffic is bumper-to-bumper as people leave the city. Where is this retreat? He takes the downtown exit, and the Gateway Arch stands guard in the background.

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