Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales) (8 page)

He had the distinct impression she said that out loud for her benefit instead of his. He also suspected that she didn’t believe it any more than he did, because it felt fucking real. Right here, right now, it did. “It doesn’t matter anymore if this is real, or if it isn’t. I think you’re fooling yourself, and me. Or maybe I am.”

Her breath whooshed out. “I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“That’s because I’m not making any sense,” he said, frustration clear in his tone. He rested a hand on her thigh. It trembled under his touch. “You obviously put a hell of a lot of thought into this date, which either means you wanted to prove a point about how much I screwed up Saturday night—”

“What?” She shook her head. “No. Not at all.”

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Or you care about what I think and feel, and wanted to make me happy.”

She swallowed hard. “Yeah. And so what if I do?”

“It’s been a hell of a long time since anyone gave a damn what I wanted. This thing we have between us? It’s no longer just for show. Not on my end.” He gritted his teeth, trying to think of the best way to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. “I want you.”

“Benjamin…”

“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll never mention this again.” He held on to her chin with his thumb and forefinger, keeping his touch gentle enough for her to turn away if she wanted. She didn’t. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you. Tell me I’m wrong.”

She closed her mouth, opened it, and said, “You’re not wrong. I do. But—”

“Shh.” He pressed a finger to her mouth. “You don’t want to want me, because you think it’s a horrible idea, and that I’m going to hurt you like all the guys before me.”

“Right,” she whispered, her eyes drifting shut. “And you’re my boss, so when that happens, it’ll be even worse. That’s why it’s a terrible idea.”

When
he hurt her. Not
if
.

She was so certain that’s how they would end, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that—besides the fact that he didn’t like it. “All great ideas start with bad ones. No one gets it right all the time.”

She swallowed. “But this is all happening so fast, and—”

“It’s not, though.” He removed his finger from her soft, kissable lips. Lips he couldn’t have. “I’ve wanted you ever since the first day you started working for me. You walked into my office with your hair down. You wore that black skirt, and a blue blouse, with a pair of black heels. Do you remember what you said to me?”

A small sound escaped her, and she stared at him as if she couldn’t believe he remembered what she wore that day. “I think I told you my name, and informed you that I intended to be the best researcher you’d ever met.”

“I think you’ve become that.” He smiled. “That’s how you made this happen tonight. You researched, right?”

“Seriously. I was just trying to give you a good night,” she said quickly. “It was nothing.”

“If you want it to be nothing,” he said slowly, locking gazes with her. “It can be nothing. Or, it can be something.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if you don’t want more, I’ll make sure you never find out how much I want to kiss you again, or how it’s all I think about. I’ll stop telling you that what you did for me tonight means something, something
real
, and I’ll act like I don’t give a shit.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’m good at that. I’ve had a lot of practice at hiding what I think and feel.”

“I’d never want that.” She shook her head. “Don’t hide your feelings from me.”

He smiled slightly. “Fine. You want honesty?”

“Uh…” She hesitated, but nodded. “Sure. Go for it.”

“In just these few short days, you’ve made me feel things I wasn’t sure I could anymore, and I think you could do a hell of a lot more, if we both let you.”

“Benjamin—”

“I know. I know.” He let go of her. “You’re not interested. But I had to say it. For the first time in years, I want to lay it all out there, in the open for all to see, because you deserve nothing less.”

“Why do you feel like you have to hide your emotions at all?” she asked.

He sucked in a breath, watching her. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this conversation.

She must have seen the panic in his eyes. “Never mind. It’s—”

“No.” He reached out and rested a hand on hers. “My father had a heart attack. While they rushed him to the hospital, I was out drinking and getting laid. I didn’t even make it home before he died, and ever since, I’ve been trying to make up for that. I never will, but it doesn’t keep me from trying.”

She watched him closely, as if everything suddenly made sense to her. As if she understood him better now, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. And that uncertainty in the face of opening up to someone was what a real date was supposed to be like. “That wasn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing he would die that night.”

She was wrong. It
was
his fault. “It doesn’t matter. That’s in the past. I want to talk about now.” He cupped her cheek and gave her a small smile. “And right now? I want you. I want you so damn bad it hurts. And not just because I want to fuck you. I want
all
of you, Maggie.”

“I…” Her lids drifted shut, and she let out a small, almost broken sound. “I’m not sure what to say.”

Something stabbed him in the chest, sending a piercing phantom pain throughout his body. He’d known she didn’t want him, but it still hurt. “Do you want me to take it back? To pretend this conversation never happened?”

“I—
no
.” She hesitated, but shook her head. “I don’t want that at all.”

A strong surge of gratification rushed through him. He’d given her an out, and she hadn’t taken it. “How about this? We treat this whole going out and spending time together like a real thing between us—not romantic, necessarily, but friends. I like you, Maggie, and I want to be your friend.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded once. “I’d like that, Benjamin.”

“Then let’s be real with one another and see where things go. If they turn romantic, we’ll deal with that when it comes.” He shrugged. “But if we stay just friends for the rest of our lives, and
only
friends, I’m fine with that, too. But I’m not going to lie. I’m hoping for more. And I think you are, too.”

And he would stop at
nothing
to make sure they both got what they wanted.

She bit the corner of her lower lip. “This thing wouldn’t work. You’re from a different world than I am. We might be able to make it work for the short-term, fake engagement, but real feelings? It would never hold. Statistically speaking, we’re—”

“Do you always read the end of the book before the beginning?”

She lowered her head and peeled her label off her beer. “Well, actually, yeah. I do. Every time.”

“Why do you do that?” he asked.

She shrugged, still staring down at her bottle. “So I know what to expect. I like advance warning, so I don’t get attached to anyone or anything that doesn’t make it to the end.”

“That might work in fiction, but in real life?” He caught her hand, stopping her from peeling the label off any more than she already had. “You can’t skip ahead to the end, especially not with us. There’s no way in hell to know how it’ll end.”

“But—” Her fingers curled into a fist inside his. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

“We’ll take it slow.
Real
slow. Spend time together. Start at the beginning of our story, and we’ll figure out the end when we get there.” He gave her a small smile. “So, what do you say? Do you want to read our story with me?”

She laughed. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m saying this…but yes.
Slowly
. As friends.”

“Excellent.” He grinned, resisting the urge to pick her up and kiss her. He’d just gotten her agreement to give him a chance to—hell, he wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing when it came to Maggie. But he’d figure it out as he went, like he’d said. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he kissed her knuckles. “I can’t wait to get to the sex scenes, though. I assure you, they’ll be worth a second read.”

She laughed, throwing her head back. It was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard, hands down. “You’re incorrigible, Benji.”

He scowled. “About that name—”

“I tried it on for size because it felt right.” She shot him a cocky grin and finished off her beer. The crowds around them had thinned out. “I was right. It stays.”

“Fine,
darling
.” He stood up and helped her to her feet, holding on to both of her hands. His blood rushed hotter when she didn’t immediately move away. “If it stays, so does this.”

Lowering his head, he gave her plenty of time to back off, or turn away. She didn’t. She actually fisted his jacket and tugged him closer, so he melded his mouth to hers. He kept the kiss sweet and short, not wanting to push her too hard or too fast. When he pulled back, his entire body protesting the motion, he rested his forehead on hers.

Her breasts touched his chest, and she clung to him. It took every ounce of his self-control not to press closer to her. To not take more than a damn kiss.

Being with her, holding her in his arms, made everything thing seem brighter. Happier. Shinier. He had no fucking idea what any of that meant, but there was no denying it anymore. He’d never wanted to have someone so badly before, and that definitely meant something, so he’d keep his hands to himself. Keep his eye on the goal. Be patient. Caring. Understanding.

And in the end…he’d
win
.

Chapter Eight

F
our days.

That was how long she and Benjamin had been hanging out, after agreeing at the hockey game to become friends for real,
after
becoming fake engaged. Backward, yes, but whatever. It was working…as long as she ignored the fact that she wanted him so much it physically hurt. Which was stupid.

She’d always been good at making logical decisions. She never made a choice without thinking through all the details and possibilities. Some might even say she overanalyzed everything—and they’d be right. She totally did.

Except
when it came to Benjamin Gale.

When it came to him, she wasn’t
rational
at all.

They’d spent the last few days getting to know one another. Turned out, they had a lot more in common than being workaholics. They both liked hockey and basketball, and cats more than dogs. They preferred dark chocolate, and when he laughed, it made her think that maybe she was crazy for holding herself away from him.

She liked him. A lot.

Which was why she was
so
screwed.

They hadn’t kissed or done anything that wasn’t strictly on a “just friends” level since the night of the hockey game. He’d been one hundred percent proper at all times. If she was honest with herself, she missed the way he used to be. She’d give anything to have him look at her as if he wanted nothing more than to see what she wore underneath her skirts and blouses. She couldn’t think about anything else but finding out what lay beneath those suits.

The office quieted, so she glanced up.

If they were quiet, that meant…

“Hey,” Benjamin said, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine like always. He wore a navy blue suit, a green shirt, and a striped gray tie. He looked as impeccably handsome as ever, and her stomach tightened at his proximity. Resting his big, calloused hands on her desk, he leaned close, lowering his voice so only she could hear him. “Shouldn’t you be gone by now, getting ready for tonight?”

She swallowed and set down her pen. Tonight was her debut in his world, at the mayor’s freaking ball. No pressure or anything. It wasn’t as if she was meeting anyone important, or being seen by anyone important. Just, ya know…

The
Mayor of New York freaking City.

“I think this is a horrible idea,” she said for what had to be the billionth time.

He sighed. “So you keep saying. And as
I
keep saying, you’ll do fine. Did you use my card to get your outfit?”

“Yes. But—”

He rubbed his jaw. “It’s red, right?”

“Yes.”

A quick nod of his head. “I’ll wear my red bowtie.”

“How can you be so
calm
about this?” She stood and tossed her glasses on the desk. “I’ll make a fool out of myself, and you, and you’ll regret ever asking—”

He held a hand up, his jaw flexing. “You can stop that sentence right now, because I already told you I don’t regret a damn thing. Go home. Start getting ready.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“And you’re procrastinating by trying to pick a fight.” He straightened her computer, and folded her reading glasses on top of it. He hated when things were out of order—she’d learned that about him, too. “It won’t work, because you’re too adorable to annoy me.”

She smiled for the first time that day. She couldn’t help it. “Benji.”

“Not even that annoying nickname will work tonight.” Lowering his head, he straightened her pens in color-coded order.

Licking her lips, she watched as his long fingers moved over her stuff. Her breath quickened, and her pulse sped up. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

He snorted. “The hell I can’t.”

Not answering, she stared at those fingers with a thirst that wouldn’t be quenched, and more than anything, she wanted them on
her
—not her pens. The more time she spent with him, the stronger the thirst became.

“Now go—” When he lifted his head again, he froze. “Stop looking at me like that.”

She tilted her head. “Like what?”

He leaned in even closer, and her heart picked up even more speed. His eyes sparked, igniting a primal urge inside of her, and he whispered for her ears only, “Like you want to get me naked, and once and for all stop this ‘just friends’ bullshit we’re both suffering through.”

She grasped the edge of her desk so hard it hurt. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you are. I—” He glanced over his shoulder and stiffened, because everyone was watching them. Big shocker there. “Just go home and get ready. I’ll pick you up in two hours, and you’ll look gorgeous.”

“But—”

He pointed to the door. “
Go
.”

“Fine.” Frowning, she picked up her jacket and purse, her legs trembling. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He didn’t reply, just scowled at her like the beast that people assumed he was. She huffed one last time and left, his stare burning into her back. As soon as she was in the elevator, she pulled out her phone.
On my way home.

Becca texted back quickly.
I just left the office, too, and picked up some new makeup with that card. Meet you there.

How was work?

Again, her phone buzzed with Becca’s response
. Boring. Some asshole wasn’t sure what he wanted for his campaign, and I spent hours discussing the merits of billboard advertising versus online.

Maggie winced.
Sounds fun.

Oh yeah. So much.
The little bubble with three dots appeared.
I can’t wait to go out with Patrick later. I need a distraction.

Still seeing him?

For now. I’m not bored yet. Still avoiding admitting you want your billionaire?

The elevator doors opened.
Yep. Okay, I have to go. See you there.

By the time she actually got to their apartment twenty minutes later, Becca waited for her outside their door. She had a brown bag in one hand, and a makeup kit in the other. Her long red hair blew in the breeze. When she saw Maggie, she straightened and held up the hand with the brown bag. “I brought vodka to go with the makeup.”

“Good. I need it. Why are you outside? You live here, too.”

“I was enjoying the sun. It’s been a while since we had a nice day, and after being in the office all day…” Becca shrugged. “It felt good.”

She looked up at the blue sky. The sun shone through the skyscrapers and clouds, right onto them. “It is really nice out.”

“Yeah.” Her best friend pushed off the wall and unlocked the door. “And you were too busy panicking to notice. Why are you so nervous, anyway? It’s just a stupid party.”

“It’s not
just
a party. It’s the first test—we have to sell this whole thing tonight.”

Becca shrugged. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like they’ll be giving you a lie detector to see if your relationship is legit. All you have to do is drink free booze, hold his hand, and act like you’re in love with a guy you haven’t stopped blabbering on about all week long. It shouldn’t be too much of a stretch.”

“No, it’s not, and that’s exactly why I don’t want to go.”

Becca blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Benjamin and I are only friends, and I really need it to stay that way, no matter what my stupid ovaries want. But we haven’t even kissed in four days—which is why I need the drink,” she said, snatching the bottle from her friend’s hand and heading into the kitchen. “Because, God, I want him, Becca. I want him
bad
.”

“No kidding,” Becca said drily.

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah.” She pushed her red hair out of her face. “Always have been, when it comes to men.”

Maggie frowned and pulled out two shot glasses. “Gee, thanks.”

“You overanalyze everything, and push every interested man out of the picture before they even have a chance to mess up.” Becca hopped up on the counter, swinging her legs. “It’s your MO”

“That’s because none of them ever make sense,” Maggie argued, pouring two shots. “Why waste my time when they never add up on paper?”

Her best friend shrugged. “And they never will. Which is why you do it, if you ask me. It gives you an excuse to get rid of them before they get too close and hurt you, like those other jerks did when you first moved here.”

That hit uncomfortably close to home. “That’s not true. It’s not my fault the men I’ve dated aren’t committed enough to prove me wrong.”

“You’ve been trying to keep this CEO of yours at a distance, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.” She tossed back the shot. “And?”

“And he hasn’t given up yet.” Becca joined her, downing the vodka. “Maybe he’s the guy you’ve been waiting for. The one who will fight for you.”

But what if he did? What if she let him win? They would sleep together, have a little fun, and when he realized the two of them didn’t make sense together—as he inevitably would—he would move on. She’d be left working for a man who no longer acted as if she existed,
and
she’d have a front row seat to all the society girls he paraded in front of her.

Maggie groaned. “You’re not helping matters. I’m supposed to listen to my head, not you, not my ovaries, and certainly
not
my heart.”

“If you ask me, you’ve done enough listening to your head. Maybe it’s time to try something new,” she argued, holding her hands up when Maggie scowled at her. “You could do worse than a rich CEO. That’s all I’m saying.”

“He doesn’t show any emotion. Like, ever.” She set the shot glass down. She refilled the glass and picked it up, glaring down at the ring it left on her counter. “I can never even begin to guess what he’s thinking. It’s infuriating.”

“So ask him.”

She snorted. “And when we break up—”

“You’re not even
together
yet.” Becca sighed and jumped off the counter. “You need to stop guessing how it’s going to end, and enjoy the ride.”

“Ugh. You sound like him.”

“Then he’s a smart man,” she said, picking up the new makeup she’d stopped at the store to get. She steered Maggie toward the bedroom, her hands on her shoulders as she propelled her forward. “Listen to us.”

“Like you listened to me when I told you Patrick was a bad idea?”

The other woman shrugged, not meeting Maggie’s eyes. “Yeah, he’s a bad idea. That’s why I picked him.”

“But—”

“Uh uh.” She pointed at Maggie. “This is my lecture, not yours. You have a rich hottie who wants to become your friend
before
getting in your pants, which is practically unheard of in the dating world nowadays, and you’re too busy worrying what other people will think of you to
enjoy
it.”

Well, when she said it like that…screw them. Screw everything. Maggie was gonna have some fun with Benjamin, and stop stressing so much.

Maybe it was the booze, or the pep talk, but Becca was right. She had spent her whole life not caring what people thought of her. Why should that change now? What was it about Benjamin, and his witch of a mother, that brought out the worst in her? Whatever it was, she was over it.

And she was done pushing Benjamin away, too.

Becca was right. It was time to take a leap of faith, for once in her life, and hope for the best. Maybe it was time to stop thinking so much, and start doing.

Turning, she hugged her best friend close. “I love you. What would I do without you here to tell me off?”

“I’m not sure.” Becca kissed the side of her head. “But lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out. You ready to kick some rich ass now?”

“Yep.” Grinning, she snapped her fingers. “Let’s do this. Make me a princess.”