Page 87 of Boss of the Year
I opened my mouth to ask what my bikini had to do with Robbie’s employment status, but instead, a laugh bubbled from my throat. “He’s an idiot.”
We stared at each other across the rising steam, suspended in this ridiculous, intimate standoff. The absurdity might have been funny if I wasn’t acutely aware of every bare inch of my body beneath the water. Or the fact that I’d just felthisskin on mine.
A droplet slid down his jaw, catching on his throat, where every muscle was strained. He still wasn’t looking at me, but I couldn’t stop looking at him.
“For what it’s worth.” Lucas’s voice was carefully controlled as he kept his gaze firmly on the trees on the other side of the pool. “I can’t see anything.”
I allowed myself to look down. While the sight of the water lapping at that absurdly defined V of muscle at his hips was almost too much to take, it wasn’t anything obscene.
“I can’t see anything either,” I admitted.
His shoulders dropped. Just a little.
I moved out of the shadows and settled back against the stones, trying to process this surreal situation. Maybe it didn’t have to bethatweird that I was in a bath naked with my boss. Bathing was a cultural thing in Japan, even if most of the onsen were split by gender. There were co-ed bathhouses in France as well as in New York. Probably here too. We could be adults about it, couldn’t we?
Lucas seemed to have come to the same conclusion.
“If you don’t mind…” He lowered himself carefully onto a bench on the opposite side of the pool. “I’d like to stay for a minute or two. I’ve had a day.”
The weariness in his voice undercut his attempt at levity. For a moment, I wanted to climb into his lap, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss the fatigue off his face.
“What kind of day?” I wondered.
“The kind where I spent eight hours listening to executives explain why their quarterly projections were off by thirty percent.”
“What, exactly, does Lyons Corp do?” I found myself asking, a little embarrassed that I didn’t already know. I knew the Lyonses were wealthy beyond belief, but I had never really explored much about how they made money beyond knowing that Lucas was some sort of investment genius.
“Venture capitalism. A.k.a., the devil’s work.”
When I blinked, he sighed.
“I’m what you call a high-level ‘stakeholder.’ That’s corporate bullshit for the guy who gives a lot of money and expects a return on his investment.”
I nodded. “Like me.”
“What?”
“Isn’t that what you did for me? You invested a lot of money into my education. A year in Paris with a stipend, tuition, and apartment couldn’t have been cheap.”
His gaze pinned me in place as surely as his hands on my shoulders.
“You are…” He worked that firm jaw a few times, like he was trying to process exactly what he meant.
When he looked away, it was like he’d had to tear himself in half to do it.
“I suppose you are an investment,” he relented. “Though I’ve never thought of you like that.”
Then how have you thought of me?I wanted to ask.
“So,” I said a little too loudly. “Then, the purpose of this trip is to…”
“Same as the rest. Check on my investments and consider others.” Lucas looked even more tired as he leaned back on his bench and tipped his head up to the stars. “Which today, in addition to interminable meetings, also included a sub-par dinner while a politician’s wife told me about her charity work for three straight hours.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry to say that I ate your dinner in about two minutes when I got in. Not exactly time to savor anything.”
“Was she like the blond woman from the state dinner?” Immediately, I felt foolish for asking.
“This one was a Japanese woman named Akiko.” Recognition crossed Lucas’s face. “You noticed the blond woman, did you?”
“It was hard not to.” I looked down at the water, embarrassed by my transparency. “You seemed to enjoy her company.”And I thoughtIwas your date.
