Page 4 of Boss's Red Glare

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” My voice comes out sharper than intended.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “You really haven’t noticed? Every time she’s around, you visibly unclench. I’ve never seen anyone ruffle your feathers quite like Maisie.”

I frown, fighting a wave of irritation that Darren is so perceptive. “My feathers are perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” Darren laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “You’ve never wondered if she’s dating anyone?”

“Why would I care?” My jaw tightens reflexively.

“Exactly,” he replies smugly, looking utterly pleased with himself. “You clearly don’t.”

I swallow hard, pushing away the sudden, irrational jealousy twisting in my chest. Maisie can date whoever she wants. She’s single, attractive, funny—of course she’ll eventually date someone. Just not someone I want to think about. Not someone like Darren.

“Anyway,” Darren continues, ignoring my glare, “think about it. You and Maisie, fake dating for the barbecue. The perfect, wholesome couple showing off Starlight Bay’s values. Everyone loves that kind of thing.”

“No,” I reply firmly, shaking my head. “Absolutely not. That crosses a line.”

“Fine,” Darren says easily, standing up. “Your loss. But just consider it. Investors love authenticity, even if it’s authentically staged.” He grins knowingly as he heads toward the door. “Just don’t wait too long. Maisie might not stay single forever.”

He leaves my office, the door clicking shut behind him with an annoyingly final sound.

I slump back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose as Darren’s words echo in my mind. Maisie. Beautiful, smart, irritating Maisie, who somehow manages to both soothe and exasperate me simultaneously. The idea of her standing beside me at the barbecue—laughing easily, chatting up investors—feels both appealing and dangerous.

I know Darren is right—investors want more than business acumen. They want to believe in me as a person, to see a relatable human behind the CEO persona. Maisie could help showcase that side. She embodies small-town charmeffortlessly. People adore her, gravitate toward her easy laugh and genuine warmth.

But fake dating? It’s absurd.

And yet, my mind conjures the image anyway—Maisie smiling warmly beside me, her laughter infectious as she effortlessly charms everyone around us. My chest tightens uncomfortably. She deserves better than being roped into my desperation play for investors.

Besides, it could complicate everything. The lines between professional and personal would blur dangerously, and I’ve always prided myself on clarity, structure. But there’s nothing structured about the way my pulse jumps every time Maisie walks into the room or the way her smile can unsettle me more than a bad quarterly report.

I shake myself, pushing away these distracting thoughts. I have work to do—real, tangible work. Planning logistics, preparing presentations. Not obsessing over a woman who is absolutely off-limits.

Yet, as I open my laptop and attempt to dive back into my overflowing inbox, Darren’s parting words linger like an irritating splinter.

She might not stay single forever.

I try to dismiss the uncomfortable twist in my gut at the thought of Maisie dating someone else, someone who isn’t me. But the irrational jealousy lingers stubbornly, refusing to be banished.

I scowl at my screen, fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard. Today is supposed to be about impressing investors, not examining my feelings toward my assistant.

But maybe Darren’s crazy idea isn’t so crazy after all. Maybe having Maisie by my side—even just for one event—could show investors the community, connection, and warmth that define Starlight Bay. It’s a risk, but it’s also potentially brilliant.

I exhale slowly, leaning back in my chair again, staring out over the harbor, sunlight gleaming off gently rocking boats.

No. Absolutely not.

Still, my mind keeps circling the idea, no matter how many times I squash it.

Maybe. Just maybe.

I glance toward my office door, imagining Maisie bustling about, her radiant energy lighting up the entire office.

Dammit.

I really, really need to stop thinking about her.

But as much as I hate to admit it, Darren might be onto something.

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