Page 17

“Morning!” I say to Maggie when I find the pretty caffeine addict pacing in front of my desk. I hand over her cappuccino, and she says, “Bless you, you sweet, sweet angel of caffeine,” while wrapping both hands around the cup before taking her first sip.

“Rough morning?” I ask.

“I stayed up way too late going out with Wyatt last night, even though he knew I had work this morning,” Maggie replies while tucking a strand of her long, wavy brown hair behind her ear. “I’m getting too old for clubs.”

When our boss’s raised voice comes through his closed office door, Maggie and I both flinch.

“Jeez. Is Monty okay?” she whispers.

“I’m not sure,” I admit as I chew on my bottom lip. “He’s been in a terrible mood for the past week. Worse than I’ve ever seen him.”

“Then I better disappear–” Maggie starts to say just as the office door suddenly opens, making us both startle again.

Our boss is many things: smart, generous, hardworking, and gorgeous.

He’s also incredibly intimidating at over six feet tall in a three-piece gray suit, clean-shaven, with his short brown hair arranged perfectly.

He’s currently glaring at me, backing it up with every intimidating inch of his height.

Luckily, I know something that will definitely improve his mood.

“Good morning, Monty,” I say as I offer the black coffee, no sugar or cream, to him.

“Thanks,” he mutters as he takes a sip. The whole time his blue eyes watch me over the top of his cup like I’m the bane of his existence while ignoring Maggie’s presence entirely.

It’s how he’s occasionally looked at me since I first filled in for his previous assistant, Lily, during her maternity leave. I have no idea what I’ve done wrong when it happens.

The breakroom fire years ago was a total accident. Surely, he’s let that go by now.

I stopped wearing short skirts and white tops so HR would get off my ass. Now it’s pants and colorful tops all year long.

I assume Monty just doesn’t care for my bubbly personality, like positivity somehow offends him.

Or maybe it has to do with our almost kiss that never happened in the elevator two years ago.

An almost kiss I think about every time I play music on my Hello Kitty Bluetooth speaker, which is pretty much all day, every day.

“There’s something I need to discuss with you,” he says.

“Sure,” I agree as Maggie tries to slink back to her desk on the other side of the floor unnoticed when she’s nearly six-feet tall in her heels.

Monty raises his arm, indicating that he wants me to step into his office for this conversation.

As I get to my feet, I rack my brain trying to figure out what I may have done recently to earn his ire. I’ve been trying to behave, to not be flirty or cause any problems so nothing comes to me right away.

Once I’m inside, he follows, then closes the door behind us.

Oh, it must be bad.

Monty never closes the door when speaking to a female employee. Ever.

He doesn’t even take a seat behind his desk. He leans against the closed door with his coffee, so I remain standing and turn around to face him and sip my own.

“What’s up?” I ask, since I’m not a fan of long, awkward silences.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?”

“This weekend?” I repeat. “No. Nope. I can’t think of anything.” I wish I had plans, but alas, I do not. “Why?” I ask.