Page 7 of Boss's Red Glare

"You gonna stare at the empty sidewalk all night, or are you planning on doing something?" Darren drawls, kicking my leg lightly under the table.

"What?" I snap, more irritated at being caught than anything else. "Do something about what?"

He tilts his head knowingly. "About your little crush situation."

I scowl at him. "I don't have a crush."

"Yeah, okay." Darren leans back smugly. "And I don’t have excellent hair."

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the heat spreading uncomfortably along the back of my neck. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You can deny all you want, but you lit up like Christmas when Maisie walked in." Darren shrugs. "Look, the investors are coming to the barbecue expecting to see more than just numbers and tech. If you showed up with someone like Maisie on your arm—someone warm, charming, and—let's face it—beautiful, they'd eat it up."

"Absolutely not," I say sharply, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. "I told you already, fake dating crosses lines."

Darren laughs, shaking his head. "Since when do you care about lines?"

"Since she's my assistant," I growl, though my voice sounds less convincing than I'd prefer.

"Who cares? It's for the business," Darren insists, eyes suddenly serious. "Besides, admit it—you wouldn't mind spending an evening playing pretend with her."

I open my mouth to argue, but Darren cuts me off with a wave of his hand. "Forget I said anything. Just keep denying how perfect she’d be for this."

He knows me too well. He knows how the gears in my head work, how I'll agonize over this idea until it’s either executed or entirely disproven. Dammit.

I exhale sharply, pushing away from the table. "You're a terrible influence."

"That's what best friends are for," he calls after me with a grin as I stride toward the exit.

I step onto the sidewalk, heart thumping erratically in my chest, my head swiveling until I spot Maisie's petite frame moving down the street. Charlene’s laughing at something Maisie said, animatedly gesturing. The evening sun casts a soft, golden glow over Maisie’s hair, turning it a shade warmer, almost honeyed. Something tightens in my chest, pulling me toward her like a magnet.

"Maisie!" I call out before my brain catches up.

Both women turn. Maisie's eyes widen slightly in surprise, her cheeks instantly tinged with pink. Charlene smiles knowingly and nudges Maisie’s shoulder.

"I'll catch you later, Maisie. Just saw some friends inside—perfect timing!" Charlene says brightly, winking as she darts back toward the pizza shop.

Maisie’s eyes dart toward Charlene’s retreating figure, panic briefly crossing her face before she quickly composes herself. "Mr. Bradford," she says softly, the professional veneer sliding neatly back into place.

"Connor," I correct her quietly, suddenly very aware of how much I dislike her formal distance right now. "We're not in the office."

Her lips curve slightly. "Connor."

I clear my throat, nerves jangling uncomfortably in my stomach. "Mind if I walk with you?"

She hesitates briefly, then nods. "Sure."

We walk in silence for a few moments, the evening air warm and filled with distant laughter from the tourists milling aboutStarlight Bay. I risk a sideways glance at Maisie, who looks as nervous as I feel, fiddling with the strap of her purse.

Finally, I can’t stand the silence. "Did you have a good dinner?"

She quirks an eyebrow at me. "You were watching me eat pizza. What do you think?"

I chuckle, some of the tension in my chest easing. "Fair point."

She bites her lip, a gesture that sends an unexpected surge of heat through me. "Did you follow me outside just to ask about pizza?"

"Actually, no." I shove my hands awkwardly into my pockets. "I have a proposition."

---