Page 71 of The Work Wife

He let out a breath and nodded. “Sure. Yeah. Bring this.” He picked up a pack of Post-it notes off her desk and held them out. They weren’t even the full-size pack—he couldn’t be serious.

He was holding her coat out for her like a perfect gentleman for his date, but this wasn’t a date. This was a business luncheon. With mini Post-its.

She followed him outside, where he looked up at the sky. It wasn’t that warm, but walking would warm her up. That was what she needed. A nice brisk walk.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you live here in Manhattan?”

“No. Brooklyn.”

“I feel like I should already know that, but I didn’t. I don’t know much about you at all.”

“You know I do a good job, right?” She smiled.

“Yes. Well . . . actually you do such a good job I hardly notice you’re doing anything at all. The things I need just appear when and where I need them. You seem to anticipate what I need before I do.” His gaze moved over her quickly before resting on her face again. “At least most of the time.” His voice had turned low and . . . something.

At the restaurant, he held the door for her and pointed to an open booth.

Chanda, the bartender, smiled as they passed, but Anna gave her a quick shake of the head to warn her not to say anything. When Chanda arrived at the table with menus she had a wide grin on her face. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Water is fine,” Anna said.

“Beer.”

Anna’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What? It’s not like I can get fired.” He laughed at her expression.

This was true. He was an Archer. The main Archer who was holding the business together. “Do you do that a lot?” She wasn’t sure if she should worry or plan an intervention.

“No. You know I don’t get to take lunch often.” Maybe Ben kept a bottle of scotch in this desk like his father used to. She shivered, thinking about the older Mr. Archer.

Chanda arrived with their drinks, went over the specials, and took their orders. The whole time she smiled as if she couldn’t wait to find out what was going on. Rather than risk the girl’s head bursting, Anna excused herself to the bathroom the minute Chanda went to the kitchen.

“Look at you! I hardly recognized you,” Chanda said, looking her up and down. “Miss Corporate Working Girl.”

“I’m with my boss, so cool it, okay?”

“Sure. I’ll be professional.” She looked over Anna’s shoulder. “Are you sure he’s just your boss? Take it from me, the Clark Kent type can be wild. My husband is an accountant by day, but a rock star in bed.”

“Stop. Just stop. Ben is only my boss.”

“Ben.” Chanda giggled. “I can tell by the way you say his name, there’s something going on.”

“There is no way you can tell anything from the word Ben.”

“I heard it again.”

Rather than argue, Anna stormed off to the bathroom and washed her hands. She glanced in the mirror and frowned at her boring makeup and hair.

When she sat down at the table, she took a breath and smiled. “Do you want me to take notes or something?”

“Sure. I have some things I’d like you to research and get back to me.”

“Of course.” Rather than use the tiny Post-its, she pulled out her phone and brought up an empty note screen. “Go ahead.”