Page 9 of Boss's Red Glare

For a moment, we stare at each other in charged silence, my heart beating faster, louder. Maisie's eyes widen slightly, as ifsurprised by our sudden intensity. Then she breaks the tension with a small laugh, looking away shyly.

"We should probably figure out some details," she says, her voice adorably flustered.

"Right," I agree, forcing myself to focus. "Maybe coffee tomorrow? To plan?"

She nods quickly. "Coffee works."

We resume walking, side by side, in comfortable silence. Somehow, everything has changed in a matter of minutes. I feel lighter, yet dangerously aware of Maisie's presence beside me—the subtle scent of vanilla from her hair, the warmth radiating from her body.

"I'll let you get home," I say finally, reluctantly stopping as we reach the corner.

She smiles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Goodnight, Connor."

"Goodnight, Maisie."

I watch her walk away, heart hammering in my chest, realizing this fake arrangement may just complicate everything.

Because right now, fake feels alarmingly real.

Chapter Five

5

Maisie

I kick off my shoes as soon as I step inside my cozy little house, my mind spinning like a sugar-induced child on Christmas morning. I still can’t quite process what happened tonight—Connor Bradford asking me to fake-date him for the Fourth of July barbecue. I must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Or both.

Just as I flop onto my bed, phone in hand, it buzzes loudly with a FaceTime call. Charlene’s face flashes across the screen, bright-eyed and excited. I swipe quickly to answer.

“You better spill every last detail right this second!” she demands, not even waiting for a hello. Her face is pressed close to the screen, eyes wide with impatience.

I laugh, shifting to get comfortable. “Connor asked me to fake-date him for the barbecue.”

Charlene lets out an ear-splitting squeal. I wince, pulling the phone away slightly until she calms down.

“Oh my god, Maisie!” She’s practically bouncing. “Did you say yes?”

I nod, feeling heat rush up my neck. “Yeah, I did.”

She grins knowingly. “Well, it’s about time. Details, please.”

I sigh dramatically. “Apparently, investors like stability, charm, and all that small-town-family stuff, so I’m basically the token fake-girlfriend for the night. Charming and totally in love.”

“Totally in love,” Charlene repeats with an exaggerated dreamy sigh. “I love it. This is like straight out of a romcom.”

I roll my eyes but smile despite myself. “We’re meeting for coffee tomorrow to talk about rules, expectations, and boundaries. All very professional.”

Charlene’s eyebrows shoot up. “Rules? Boundaries? Oh, Maisie. You poor, sweet, naive cupcake.”

“What?” I feign innocence, though my heart rate picks up speed.

“Mark my words,” she says with an exaggerated whisper, eyes wide for dramatic effect, “boundaries never last long when fake-dating your hot boss.”

“Stop it,” I laugh, feeling my cheeks burn hotter. “It's just for one night.”

“Mm-hmm,” Charlene hums, unconvinced. She suddenly leans closer, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What are you wearing tomorrow?”

I shrug, glancing at my messy closet. “Jean shorts and a T-shirt, probably.”

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