Page 11 of Boss's Red Glare

I tap my chin playfully, thinking. “Three months? Enough to be comfortable, but still new enough for that romantic, butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling.”

He smiles again, eyes crinkling. “Romantic butterflies. Got it. Favorite date?”

I lean forward conspiratorially. “Obviously, a picnic on the beach, watching the sunset.”

Connor chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Obviously.”

He’s so much warmer and more relaxed than his usual office self, and I’m finding myself dangerously attracted to this side of him. “Your favorite thing about me?” I tease lightly.

He blinks, momentarily startled, but then smiles faintly, gaze steady. “Your optimism. Your kindness.”

My heart does a ridiculous little flip. “Yours is your hidden softness under all the grumpiness.”

Connor laughs outright, eyes sparkling. “Hidden softness?”

“Absolutely,” I insist, grinning. “It’s there. Somewhere.”

He raises his mug, eyes twinkling. “I’ll have to work on hiding it better, then.”

I giggle softly, feeling surprisingly comfortable. “We should practice being natural around each other. Maybe act like we actually like each other a little?”

“Hmm,” Connor hums thoughtfully, leaning slightly forward. “Maybe I already do.”

My breath catches slightly, my pulse jumping at his playful tone. “Maybe I do too.”

We stare at each other a beat too long, the air suddenly thick with unspoken words and dangerous possibility. Then Connor clears his throat softly, glancing down. “I think we’ll pull this off.”

“I think so too,” I whisper, nerves fluttering again.

He checks his watch reluctantly, sighing. “I have to get going. But I’m glad we talked.”

“Me too,” I say softly, standing with him.

He places a gentle hand at the small of my back as we move toward the door, the simple contact sending a spark up my spine.

Outside, Connor pauses, turning to face me fully. “Thank you again, Maisie. For agreeing to this.”

“Of course,” I murmur, feeling oddly breathless.

“I’ll see you Monday?” His voice is softer now.

I nod, smiling. “Monday.”

He lingers a second longer, eyes warm and thoughtful, before stepping away with a reluctant sigh. “Have a good weekend, Maisie.”

“You too, Connor.”

I watch him walk away, heart hammering unsteadily, and realize Charlene was right—boundaries might be harder to maintain than I’d thought. Because this feels dangerously real.

But for now, I’m just a girl in a yellow sundress, standing in the morning sunshine, trying very hard not to fall hopelessly for her grumpy boss.

6

Connor

Monday mornings have always been predictable for me. I get to the office early, pour my first coffee, review reports, and calmly prepare myself for the week ahead. But today feels different. I find myself pacing my office like a restless teenager waiting for his first date. It’s irritatingly unfamiliar—and unsettling.

I glance at the sleek silver clock hanging above the door for what feels like the hundredth time. Maisie isn’t late—yet—but every passing minute feels like hours. I’m normally annoyed by her tardiness, but this morning, I’m practically praying she doesn’t walk in early and catch me nervously tapping my pen on the desk.

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