Page 22 of Boss with Benefits

“Sleep in if you want,” he said. “We don’t have a meeting or anything. You can sleep.”

She laughed without humor. “I have a kid, Brady. Mothers don’t get to sleep in. I’ll be at the office on time as usual.”

With a gentle push, she got both men out the door. Then she shut it before any of her neighbors could happen along and see them. No one could prove they were visiting her as long as she didn’t get caught talking to them. All she had to do was go to bed now. Problem solved.

Or was it?

Chapter Five

Working late with Brady had its advantages. Jessica knew she didn’t have to watch every word that came out of her mouth because a coworkermightaccidentally overhear. They didn’t have to worry what would happen if they touched or kissed. Days had passed since his drunken visit to her home, and neither of them had brought the subject up, so maybe now would be a good time. She wasn’t sure he remembered dropping by unannounced. If he did, he hadn’t said anything. Should she remind him?

Bridget was at the house with Axl, so they had plenty of time for grownup talk. After two hours of paperwork, phone calls, and picking new models for an upcoming underwear ad, they took a break. The problem was, Jessica didn’t want to talk about anything. More than tired, she was totally exhausted.

A violent chocolate craving hit her hard. They had vending machines two floors below them. She thought about making a snack run. Thought about it in earnest, but she was too tired to move. Instead of racing for the elevator, she reclined on the couch, while Brady paced the floor. The visual they created made her laugh out loud. If someone saw them, they might think he was her psychiatrist.

Brady would hate that. He didn’t talk about his feelings, and he sure didn’t want to hear someone else ‘bitching’ about their problems. Hadn’t he said so a hundred times?

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

Her laughter died abruptly. “Nothing. Just feeling punchy from the lack of sleep.”

“Want to go home? We can save the rest for tomorrow.”

“Too sleepy to get up right now.”

She heard him walk away. Glasses clinked. Liquid flowed. He returned with refreshments. The man had to be a mind reader. She sat up quickly and accepted a glass of root beer from him. It was too bad he didn’t have an ice machine in his office.

Or a vending machine. Maybe she should talk to him about bringing a couple into their offices. If he didn’t want it in his, she wouldn’t mind having one in hers.

She rebuked the idea after it occurred to her she would be able to satisfy her cravings too easily. The pounds would pack on then. She had enough trouble keeping in shape without adding afternoon binges.

Brady tossed a bag of chips onto the sofa next to her. “Sorry I can’t offer you champagne and strawberries. We’ll have to make due with root beer and potato chips.”

It wasn’t chocolate, but it would do. She ripped the bag open, grabbed a handful, and stuffed two potato chips into her mouth.Hmm. Her eyes closed, and she enjoyed the salty goodness.

Brady sat down with the chips between them, giving them both equal access. They talked about work for a while, but her mind kept returning to something she’d heard an employee telling another employee earlier in the day.

“People think I’m naive when it comes to men,” she said.

Brady shrugged. “Well, you are a farmer’s daughter from Kansas.”

She laughed into her empty hand. “Oh, sweetie, that’s just a story I tell people. I let them think I’m a boring girl from asmall town in the Midwest with perfect parents, and the nosy questions stop.”

“Seriously?” He blinked at her. “That was a story you made up?”

“Do you think the honest, hardworking Christian parents I describe to people would have a daughter like me?” She rolled her eyes and laughed again. “I had a child out of wedlock, stud.”

“What do you think is so wrong with you that you couldn’t have decent parents? I think you’re pretty cool.” He shrugged and grabbed a handful of chips. “Tell me your real story then. Who are you, Jessica Bishop?”

“You met my mother. Once.” He frowned, and she said, “Don’t you remember? It was way back when I was sixteen and you were working for that one fashion house. My mother was told to leave, because she kept making demands and was so plastered she could barely walk across the floor without face-planting.”

His jaw dropped. “That was your mother? I thought she was your agent.”

“She was both, actually.” Jessica smiled as memories of those days returned with crystal clarity. Brady had been the highlight of her youth. “You were my favorite photographer. Did you know?”

A faint flush stained his cheeks.

Or maybe it was her imagination.

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