Page 6 of Boss's Red Glare

“Shhh,” I whisper, frantically nudging her arm. “Keep your voice down!”

She peeks over her shoulder and immediately turns back, grinning wickedly. “Oh, wow. He looks even better outside the office. Is casual Connor even legal?”

I risk another glance. Charlene’s not wrong. Casual Connor is lethal. Dark jeans hug his legs, and he’s wearing a simple gray T-shirt that emphasizes broad shoulders I usually only catch glimpses of beneath tailored suits. His dark hair is perfectly tousled, catching the soft glow of the overhead lights, and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he laughs make something inside my chest twist painfully.

“You should go say hi,” Charlene whispers conspiratorially, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Absolutely not,” I sputter, heat rushing to my face. “I don’t get paid enough to interact with him outside office hours.”

She laughs softly, shaking her head. “He’s clearly off the clock too, Maisie. Who knows, maybe outside of work, he's less grumpy?”

I chew my lip, eyes darting involuntarily toward Connor again. Darren spots me looking and nudges Connor, whose gaze swings around and locks onto mine. My breath catches sharply.

He raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at his lips. I manage a stiff, awkward wave and then immediately want to crawl under the table.

Charlene giggles, thoroughly enjoying my discomfort. “Smooth, Maisie. Really smooth.”

I sink lower in my seat. “This is mortifying.”

“Or,” Charlene says pointedly, “it’s the perfect opportunity to interact with him outside your tyrannical boss dynamic.”

“Not happening,” I say again firmly, ignoring how my heart thuds traitorously at the idea. But even as I stare determinedly at my menu, I feel Connor’s presence. My body practically hums with awareness.

Why am I suddenly so jittery around him? I see him every day, suffer through his scowls, his sharp tones. Yet here, in this cozy pizza place, Connor Bradford is somehow entirely new to me—attractive in ways I haven’t fully allowed myself to admit.

Our pizza arrives, a cheesy masterpiece I barely notice as I keep glancing in Connor’s direction. Darren’s animatedly telling a story, waving his hands theatrically, and Connor laughs again, shaking his head fondly. It’s a side of him I’ve never seen, and it leaves me uncomfortably curious for more.

“You’re staring,” Charlene whispers teasingly.

“I am not,” I protest weakly, forcing myself to look at my plate. “Besides, it’s purely curiosity.”

“Riiiiiiiiight,” Charlene drawls skeptically, taking a big bite of pizza. “Admit it, you’re dying to know what makes him laugh like that.”

“Maybe,” I mumble, poking at my pizza with sudden disinterest. “But curiosity is dangerous.”

“Only if you don’t act on it,” she says breezily, taking another sip of soda.

I sigh deeply, sneaking another peek at Connor. My chest tightens when I see him looking back again, his gaze softening slightly when our eyes meet. For a fleeting moment, something sparks between us—a dangerous awareness that makes my pulse flutter.

Then Darren nudges him, breaking the spell, and Connor glances away, the usual seriousness returning to his features.

“Let’s finish quickly,” I say abruptly, desperate to escape before I do something stupid—like walk over and ask him why he’s so annoyingly attractive when he smiles.

Charlene smirks knowingly. “Fine. But this isn’t over, Maisie. I predict interesting developments in your future.”

“Absolutely not,” I mutter defiantly, trying—and failing—not to look in Connor’s direction one last time.

But as we leave the restaurant, I catch a glimpse of Connor’s reflection in the window. He’s watching me leave, his expression thoughtful, curious even.

My heart does an unexpected flip, and suddenly Charlene’s teasing prophecy feels disturbingly plausible.

And entirely too tempting.

4

Connor

I watch Maisie’s reflection disappear through the restaurant window, feeling oddly deflated when she slips out of sight. For a brief, irrational moment, I consider following her. I almost do it. I’d ask her why, of all people, she chose to spend her evening glaring at me from across a pizza place.

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