Teasing The Boss (7 page)

“Don’t worry about anything.” Simon hooked the dog up and headed toward the door. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

He was gone before she could even squeak out a goodbye.

“What the hell was that?”

Grace ran to the window to watch Simon walk with Princess keeping perfect pace with him. “What was what?”

“I thought the thing between you two was fake?” He came up behind her to spy on Simon as well.

As far as she knew, Andre was the one person who knew she and Simon weren’t actually together, and he was in love with the intrigue of it all. The last thing she needed was Andre working his hardest to get her and Simon together.

Somehow he couldn’t get it through his head that Grace didn’t
want
a boyfriend. What did she need one for anyway? She had a good job that took up almost all her free time and a dog to cuddle with and who didn’t talk back. Sure a little sex here and there would be nice, but they made battery-operated boyfriends for that. No man necessary.

She made a mental note to go out and buy that particular type of boyfriend. It had been much too long for her, and if she was going to be spending so much time with Simon, she’d need relief.

She was a rational, logical woman. She was attracted to his body, not his mind, and it only made sense that she’d want to take the edge off. “It
is
fake,” she said with determination as she turned away from the window. “Simon’s just…annoying.” She went back to her work space, moving everything over once again to make room for Andre.

Andre sat down and pulled his stuff closer. “Annoying and hot are different than plain annoying. A guy like that can be as annoying as he wants.”

“You’d better not poop,” Simon said to Princess.

She looked over her shoulder at him; the tongue hanging out of her mouth added a note of absurdity to her appearance. He got the distinct impression she was laughing at him.

“You heard me. I’m not picking up your shit.”

Apparently unfazed, she turned back to sniff after all the beachy smells. He narrowed his eyes, but decided to leave the dog alone. He’d wanted to get a good look at the neighborhood, and a grown man walking alone tended to raise eyebrows. However, a grown man walking a dog fit right in.

The Cliffs’ beach mansion was at the end of an alcove and was completely surrounded by ocean, which put them on a dead end street. As he moved farther and farther from their little paradise, the houses, though still lavish, were closer together. The ocean sent a cool breeze down the street and made the humid, summer air much more bearable.

Grace seemed happy to get him out of the house. That might be an issue. He’d written off her approval on the drive up, but if people were going to believe they were together, he needed her to look at him with something other than annoyance once in a while. Maybe he could sway her opinion a bit when they went out with Andre. He’d never really spent casual time with her. She barely spoke to him on the car ride up, and he hadn’t had a chance to speak to her during the week unless it was strictly work related.

But what the hell did he know about getting someone to like him? The women he spent time with usually asked him to pay more attention to them or spend more time in the relationship and less on work. And that was when he asked them to leave.

He made enough that he could take plenty of time off during the year, but he rarely did. What was the point? Half the reason he was so good at his job was because he loved it. Lived and breathed financials. What most people saw as boring, he saw as a puzzle just waiting to be cracked and solved.

And he’d yet to find a woman who could hold his attention that long.

He and Princess turned down a few streets, always staying along the oceanfront property. As they approached a modern looking building made almost completely out of glass, Princess kicked it up a notch and pulled against the collar as she tried to head up the driveway.

Simon gave the leash a few quick tugs. “You’re not going anywhere,” he muttered, but she didn’t seem to care. She pulled again and he gave the leash a quick yank. “Seriously, I’m stronger than you.”

Of course, the one moment Princess wasn’t perfectly behaved, the shiny, red BMW pulled into the driveway. Simon backed up and waved an apology to the driver.

But as the car rolled past him, Simon got his first good look at the man behind the wheel. His heart pounded in his chest as recognition hit him. DuFord.

No wonder the damn dog was pulling. She knew the owner.

DuFord climbed out of the low riding driver’s seat and smiled over to Simon.

It took everything in Simon to not throw up in his mouth.

“Hey, Princess,” the bastard called as he strode over to Simon and the dog. He wore khakis and a pale blue polo shirt. A walking, talking, preppy stereotype.

So what if Simon had the exact same shirt? He would burn it as soon as he got back to his apartment.

DuFord patted the dog’s head and looked up to Simon. “You’re not Grace,” he said with a grin.

Simon searched for any hint of jealousy, but couldn’t tell much through the sunglasses DuFord had on. “No. I’m just taking her dog for a little walk.” He held out a hand. “Simon West. Nice to meet you.”

DuFord stood and met Simon’s hand with a firm shake. “Oh, hey. We’ve actually talked on the phone a few times. I’m Mark DuFord.”

Simon did his best impression of a shocked face. Usually he was ten steps ahead of everyone else and waiting for them at the top. He wasn’t used to hiding his cards. “Mark! I didn’t realize you’d be out here this week. I came up to spend some time with Grace, but apparently she works just as hard surrounded by the gorgeous scenery as she does back in the city.”

Mark barked out a laugh. “Grace is glued to that laptop, isn’t she? I couldn’t believe her face was plastered all over the news. Even putting aside the matter of ethics, Grace doesn’t have time to go running around with a married man.”

“Funny,” said Simon. “She’s always made time for me.”

If he hadn’t been looking for any sign of a reaction, he might’ve missed the tension that crept into DuFord’s shoulders. A swell of satisfaction ran over Simon. DuFord still had some sort of feelings toward Grace.

And that was something he could use.

DuFord put his smile back on, keeping his calm and collected persona on. “So how long are you two in town for? I hope you’re not leaving right after the Blowout.”

“I think we’re driving back to the city Sunday morning.”

DuFord shook his head. “You have to stay longer. I’m having a barbeque at my place Sunday afternoon. You can stop by, have some of the best steak in your life, and still make it back to town before it’s too late.”

And he was in.

“That’s tempting. I’ll make sure to mention it to Grace. How did you know her again?”

“Grace has been doing the Summer Blowout for years now. She’s hard to miss, you know?”

Simon took a step back and nodded. “I noticed. It was great seeing you in person, but I have to be getting back.”

“I’m so glad we ran into each other. It’s a shame the Hunt deal didn’t work out. I’m looking forward to see if you have any more referrals.”

Simon nodded. “We’ll talk. You have a great day, Mark.” No one was more pissed about the Hunt deal falling through than Simon. If that deal had worked, DuFord would be in jail and Simon would’ve been working on Victoria’s projections like he was supposed to be.

“I’ll see you around,” shouted DuFord as Simon turned away.

A grin spread across Simon’s face. DuFord had no idea what was coming.

~~~~~

Grace threw the shirt on the bed where it joined the ten other outfits she’d passed on already. Which was not good, considering she only brought a finite number of clothes with her.

She was happy with her bottom half, though. Tight, black leggings and knee-high, brown boots. It went with almost everything she owned. But no shirt was right. They either showed too much boob and back, or they were much too matronly for a supposed “date.”

Between thinking about the Blowout and dealing with the aftermath of her scandal, she hadn’t stopped to think about proper date-but-not-a-date attire. She riffled through all the options she’d already disregarded. The sequin one wasn’t too bad. It was fun and bright and she got compliments on it every time she wore it.

But it wasn’t Simon’s style at all. He’d probably want someone who was elegant and classic. A tall, waify type who would look beautiful on his arm and know when to shut up and put out.

She frowned. Good grief. The man wasn’t that bad. But the shirt would work. It might not be Simon’s style, but most people here probably wouldn’t get suspicious over a sparkly shirt. She was putting way too much thought into this.

Grace pulled off her T-shirt and shrugged into the loose tank. The weight of the sequins and beading pulled the fabric in a flattering way around her breasts and waist. She let her ponytail down and ran her fingers through her hair, getting a messy, cute look. If they were going to be dancing, she couldn’t do anything too spectacular with it.

She snuck into the one bathroom of the cottage to make her eye makeup a bit more dramatic and put on a bright pink lipstick. As she stood back to assess the results, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. This would be fine. Go out, laugh at all Simon’s jokes, have a drink, maybe even dance, and get home before ten. Easy peasy.

A knock on the bathroom door sounded and Grace jumped. “Yes?”

“Are you almost finished? I wanted a few minutes in the bathroom before we left.”

“I’m done.” She pushed the door open and her heart skipped a beat.

Good Lord, the man was gorgeous. He’d traded the T-shirt for a muscle-hugging black sweater. The dark fabric made his brown eyes seem impossibly large, and Grace had to force herself to stop staring. How was she supposed to fake anything with him?

She blinked away her thoughts and stumbled out of his way. “Go for it,” she muttered as she disappeared into her bedroom again. She sat on the bed where Princess had made herself at home on Grace’s pile of clothes.
That’s what she got for not cleaning up
, she thought as she ran her fingers through Princess’s fur.

Go out, drink, dance, come home.
She repeated the list in her mind over and over, not quite knowing why she was so nervous about the whole thing. It was basically drinks with friends. Nothing mind-blowing.

But there was nothing ordinary about Simon West. When he walked into a room, men bowed down in respect and women practically fainted with desire. She was small potatoes compared to his normal crowd.

That must be what put her so on edge. Everything about him somehow made her feel so inadequate. The people she’d spent years with, slowly gaining their trust and respect, fawned over the business prodigy as if he were the second coming of Christ. She rested her head in her hands. Jealousy! It made so much sense, though! Except for their first meeting, and the clothing incident in the car on the way to their dinner, he’d been nothing but a respectful gentleman, and he’d saved her company and reputation in a matter of days. She owed him more than petty emotions.

She stood, determined to start over. They were colleagues and roommates for the next few days. There was no reason they shouldn’t be friends.

Energized with her newfound realization, she swung the door open and ran straight into Simon’s hard, warm chest. “Shit,” she whispered. Her newfound confidence plummeted right to the floor.

Simon laughed; his warm breath caressed her neck and sent a shiver down her spine. “It’s okay,” he said. “Are you ready to go?”

She pulled herself from his grasp, suddenly cold without his touch. “I’m ready. Let’s get out of here.”

~~~~~

Andre definitely needed a raise
, thought Grace as she took another sip of her…something. The waitress had said what the fruity concoction was, but for some reason drinks that didn’t have dirty names never stuck with her.

And her memory probably would’ve been better if she wasn’t three drinks in already. She bobbed her head to the pop music that played from the other room and debated heading out to the dance floor.

“Are you okay?” shouted a voice from behind her.

Grace twisted around and saw Simon behind her, a fresh drink of his own in hand. Some sort of brown liquid and ice. She narrowed her eyes as she tried to guess what it was. He was rich enough to be an aged Scotch or brandy man, but her gut said whiskey.

His warm hand landed on her arm. “Grace? What’s up?”

She tilted her head back and stared up at his eyes. “I was guessing your drink!” she yelled over the music.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!” she protested, but even as the words came out, he pulled on her arm to lead her…somewhere. “Where are we going?” she yelled.

He didn’t answer, but she supposed she wouldn’t have been able to hear him over the pounding pop music anyway. She bobbed her head, but she apparently couldn’t do that and walk at the same time, and tripped over her own feet. She stumbled a few steps but was able to steady herself while only spilling a few drops of her drink.

Simon whipped around to stare at her, and she held her glass up in victory. “Did you see that?” she asked with a big grin.

He shook his head and once again led her across the dance floor and through a set of double doors.

The cool night breeze brushed through her hair, and Grace took a deep breath of the salt tinted air. “What are we doing out here?” She took one of the empty seats on the balcony and took in the beautiful nighttime ocean view.

“I figured you could use some air.” He took the seat next to her.

She laughed. “I kind of thought you wanted people to think we were sneaking out to do things.”

He raised a brow. “Flings run off to do things. Couples go to where it’s quiet to talk.”

Grace slouched down in the chair and laid her head back to stare up at the stars. “Hmm,” she muttered. “I guess I forgot that. It’s been awhile since I had one of those talks.”