I stare unseeingly at my screen, trying to get the image of what just happened out of my mind, something I know will be impossible, but I must try. I make a second attempt to focus on the codes on my screen, only managing a whimper when I move slightly in my chair. I’m a wet mess, and after I have gotten my breathing under control, I make myself decent again, congratulating myself on not hyperventilating.
When Mitch returns with his suit jacket casually tossed over his shoulder, briefcase in hand, I am forced to ask. “Does he know?”
“That you have the hots for your boss who just had you pinned against the wall less than five minutes ago?”
My cheeks scald.
“I don't think he guessed,” Mitch answers. “He had some dinner thing planned with a girl and was freaking out too much about it to worry about what you were doing against the glass wall—"
“Okay, okay. I get it. You don't have to be a smartass about it.”
Mitch only grins, the grin staying on until we are both buckled into the car, and he turns serious.
“That wasn't supposed to happen.”
“I know.”
“Just minutes earlier, I'd talked about fraternizing with employees...” He shakes his head at himself.
“But you and I are now neighbors. If you ask me, we are more than boss and employee.”
Surprise flickers on his face. “We are, huh?”
I blush hard. “You know what I mean. L-like we-we're—"
“I know what you mean, Beth. And you're correct. As amazing as that was, it has to be the last time it happens. I cannot blur the lines, it'll complicate things for everyone.”
I nod and look out the window, wondering why my heart wilts at the thought of never touching Mitchell again the way I'd gotten to do today.
CHAPTER11
MITCHELL & BETH
The conference room, although partitioned to keep out noise, is glass-walled, which is why I can see Beth strutting about in heels that make those shapely legs look endless. Her hair is packed up in a messy updo that manages to make her look impossibly hotter.
Sam, my assistant, who had not been needed in the meeting, is beside her, saying something that causes her to let out pleasant laughter that travels through the lobby and into keen ears, causing something in my chest to clench. Maybe I should have given him the approval to join the meeting. Surely, there's something he could glean from sketching concept and design outlook.
Before I can do something as unremarkable as fishing out my phone to tell my assistant to get the hell away from Beth, someone drums their fingers against the desk, and my attention snaps to them. It's Rob, my designer. He peers at me through glasses that sit askew on a not-so-straight nose.
“We wanted your verdict on this one,” Rob says, angling the paper even more towards me, as if silently begging for my rapt attention.
I sigh, feeling a bit annoyed at the fact that Beth's presence has managed to distract me in such an important meeting, which is something that is happening far more often than I desired. I constantly find my thoughts trailing to that night, nearly a week ago, in Beth's office with her back against the glass wall where anyone could have seen her.
That night had been dangerously thrilling. I cannot help but recall the feelings that had coursed through me at the realization that Mateo was actively pursuing Beth. The thought of Beth getting it on with Mateo or some other faceless man had pushed me beyond breaking point, and I had found myself doing something quite uncharacteristic of me.
I didn’t expect it to feel as good as it had, or for Beth to taste so sweet, or for her body to yield so completely to mine. But it did happen, and the hard kisses, meant to teach her a lesson, to show her who was the boss, brought me to my knees. The blissful whimpers and moans out of the cute nerd traveled to my core and had tempted me to take her right there and then.
Shit.I was getting distracted again.
“...with this interface and feature, our clients with peculiar interests and similar values can match with prospective dates of their choice and can choose to further have a conversation to gauge how good they fit before they go ahead to strike a deal.”
“Go on a date, you mean? This is about love for those who sign up, not business,” I say, looking disapprovingly over the design that doesn't match the tone and synergy I picture for All4One. “These colors, for one, look really depressing. Aren't there other brighter colors? How are midnight gray and black colors that represent the sort of message we want to convey?”
Seth, looking flustered, clears his throat. “Well, a large demographic of youngsters has a preference now, and it happens to be midnight calming tones that look a lot less—"
“We can leave them with options, don't you think? People who have goals, desires, and preferences that differ are the target demographic of All4One. And each of these options is unique. The overall feel, design, and functionality of the app should work together to convey the sense of inclusion we want to convey to our clients,” I tell Rob. “Rework your perspective, and have it ready in a week.”
“Of course, Mr. Bridges.”