Conflicted (3 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

I’ll be at work until at least eight. Go ahead and eat without me.

I stared at the text on my phone, not sure how to respond. What was there to say? I’d be going home to an empty house and eating dinner alone. Again. I thought having a husband meant that I’d no longer feel lonely.

Wrong.

I’d never felt more lonely than I had since John and I had drifted apart.

“Ms. Cleary, I’ll need you back at your desk in five minutes.” Cole’s voice broke into my silent seething as I stared at my phone.

I glanced up at him, and I felt uncomfortable as I thought about my closet climax the day before. Why had I come so damn hard when he popped into my head? I wondered if he was as dominating in the bedroom as he was in the office. I wondered what kind of kisser he was. What kind of lover he was.

He was rocking another suit, and my eyes drifted to his broad shoulders before I snapped myself out of my fantasies.

It was ridiculous. Cole was an asshole. I saw the kinds of ladies he took to work functions when I’d Facebook stalked him. They were leggy, blonde, and scorching hot. Even if I was single, he would never want me.

Even if there was some small chance in hell he had any interest, he’d never cross the line with his married assistant—especially not when he’d just taken over as CEO.

And I’d never cheat on John even if the offer was on the table.

“Yes, sir,” I said, setting my phone down and focusing on shoveling the rest of my lunch into my mouth. His cap on my lunch break gave me a total of fourteen minutes, but arguing the point was futile. I didn’t want to be accused of talking back to the boss, so I shut my mouth and did what he said.

I wouldn’t win Assistant of the Year if I spent my time arguing with him, and he and the other company bigwigs were finalizing their decision within the next month or two.

I headed back to my desk. Mr. Benson sat in one of the chairs across from my desk. His elbows rested on his knees, and his hands were folded in front of him as he stared down at a spot on the floor. I took a moment to enjoy the view.

When his dark eyes met mine, a surge of anticipation bounced up my spine. I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it, too.

“I need you to book me a trip to New York. Flight and hotel.” He stood. “I emailed you the details. I’m taking a last-minute opening for a presentation spot at a conference, and I’ll need an assistant. It’s partially over a weekend, so check your calendar.” He headed back into his office without waiting for my reply.

Was that his way of inviting me on a trip to New York? Or was that his way of demanding I attend the conference with him?

Either way, with Assistant of the Year on the line and the strong desire to get away from John for a few days, I was in.

And I was just a little bit interested in what Cole might be like outside of the office.

I opened his email, a forward of the conference details. It was less than two weeks away, which meant that we had a lot of work to do in a short amount of time.

I supposed I had an obligation to check a five night trip with my husband, so I finally responded to the text he’d sent me earlier.

My boss asked if I can accompany him on a trip to New York a week from Wednesday through the following Monday. Do you have any reasons why I shouldn’t go?

I could’ve been a little nicer, I supposed. But it took two to tango, and he hadn’t exactly been full of pleasantries lately.

As I glanced at the calendar, I realized that the trip would take place over the last weekend of the month—over our monthly date night. I wondered if he’d even notice, let alone tell me not to go.

In the old days, he would’ve responded with something sweet—something to let me know that he didn’t want me to go because he was going to miss me, or that he didn’t want us to miss out on our important date night.

But it wasn’t the old days anymore, and I wasn’t sure he actually would miss me. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t miss him, either. Maybe this trip was exactly what the two of us needed. Maybe it would help us get back on track and feel something for each other aside from irritation.

A reply came quickly.
Go ahead.

I dialed into Cole’s office.

“Yes?”

“I checked my calendar and I’ll be able to accompany you on the trip.”

“Fine. Start the travel arrangements.”

His
fine
echoed around my head.

What was worse? Being buried in indifference at home? Or traveling with my son of a bitch boss for six days?

It wasn’t like I had someone eagerly waiting for me to come home, anyway. John was always working late, and I would be, too, as I prepared for the conference.

The conference ran Thursday through Sunday, and Cole wanted to get there the day before it started. He chose to leave Monday in case he had additional business while we were in New York. I hoped we’d have time to sightsee—or, rather, I hoped that
I
would have time to sightsee as I didn’t really picture myself tooling around town with Cole.

I wanted to see the Empire State Building and the 911 Memorial and take in a show on Broadway. I wanted to eat a hot dog from a street vendor and walk into one of those teeny-tiny restaurants where you could order your slice of New York style pizza and get it at the end of the counter.

I pictured myself doing all of that alone while Cole did whatever he did.

But it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have a travel companion.

Cole was presenting a segment on how to build a successful client base using technology. He dictated the things he wanted included in the presentation as I typed it and set it up. He sent me facts and figures and tables to include, and I set to work on creating a stunning visual presentation.

My phone rang, and I saw that it was Cole calling from his office. “Hi, Mr. Benson.”

“Ms. Cleary, I was just informed of a working dinner tonight. Are you available for notes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine.” He ended our call.

I’d gone to two other working dinners with Cole in the short time he’d been my boss, and the food had been spectacular. But the best part was that he paid me overtime. So I got a free dinner at a nice restaurant plus extra pay, and all I had to do was memorize whatever was discussed, type up some notes, and send them to him by morning.

I rushed home at five o’clock to change and freshen up. A kind boss might’ve let me go early so I had time to change, but not Cole. I rushed around, throwing on deodorant over a sweaty body and brushing my hair so fast I ripped painfully through a knot.

I picked out a new dress I’d bought, a springy white one with yellow flowers and a white belt around the waist. My favorite feature was that it even had pockets, the perfect place for my cell phone and keys.

I applied some shiny lip gloss and headed back toward the office. Cole had asked me to be back no later than half past six, and I rolled in with two minutes to spare, arriving at my desk right on time.

He was waiting outside his office door, standing with his arms folded as he leaned against the frame. He looked like a damn book cover standing there. He gazed at me for a moment, his eyes roving over my dress and down to my heels. I braced myself for some comment from him, wishing I could read him better. I wanted him to see me the way I saw him. I wanted him to think I was pretty. I wanted him to want me.

Wait. Where had that thought come from?

I hated that I had a crush on him.

Sure, John and I had our problems. Sure, I may have had a tiny (huge) crush on my boss. Sure, I thought about him constantly and wondered what it would be like to run my fingers through his wavy black hair.

But I was a faithful wife.

Just because I found Cole sexy didn’t mean I would act on it.

But having that thought—that thought that I wanted him to do something about it, to touch me, to tell me how beautiful I was, to want me…that felt like cheating.

An immediate wave of guilt washed over me.

I wasn’t sure where these feelings were coming from, but I thought maybe it was for wanting something I couldn’t have. Or maybe because I’d been ignored at home for so long.

He glanced at the expensive watch he wore on his wrist and then his eyes met mine. “Cutting it close as usual, Ms. Cleary. I can’t be late tonight.”

“My apologies, sir.” Why the hell was I
apologizing
when I was on time? I hadn’t done anything wrong.

He sighed and turned toward the door. “Let’s go.” He started walking and his arm brushed mine on his way by. He never touched me in any way, so the accidental contact sent a spike of adrenaline through my stomach. 

I grabbed my iPad off my desk and then followed behind him. We took the elevator down, my legs silently thanking him for taking the elevator instead of the stairs. I blew out a breath, grateful that I’d made it on time and hadn’t had to endure too much wrath.

A black Ford Expedition was waiting at the curb for us. Cole opened the door and ushered me in before getting in behind me.

He tapped away on his phone and barked orders at me as the car moved toward our destination. “We’ll be meeting with Lincoln Mathers from MTC Industries, his wife Alexis, and two other executives from the company. Pay attention when they introduce themselves because I don’t know their names and I’ll need you to draft a follow up tomorrow. Questions?”

I shook my head, ready to be the very best assistant he could ever ask for. I was still thinking of the Assistant of the Year bonus, and events like these were my time to shine.

We pulled up to Vine, a fancy restaurant where I’d always dreamed of eating but could never afford on my own. It was one of those places I only read about in the celebrity gossip magazines.

A hostess led us to a table, checking out Cole on the way. I didn’t blame her. His ass was on point in that suit. She sat us in a cozy, round corner booth, and Cole slid in, leaving the end for me. He wasn’t doing it to be nice, though—he wanted to be closer to the client. I just hoped I’d be able to hear the conversation from where I sat.

As I slid in beside him, I accidentally bumped my knee against his. He glanced over at me, and where I expected annoyance, I found something else when our eyes met.

Okay, my imagination was working overtime. There was no way Cole Benson was giving me the eye.

But would it really be so bad if he was?

And holy shit, he still hadn’t moved his knee. I broke our eye contact first, and then I moved my knee. I wasn’t sure if he was subtly flirting with me or if he was asserting his dominance over me.

It had to be dominance. Cole would never flirt with his lowly assistant. He usually looked at me like I was barely good enough to serve him coffee.

I focused all my attention on the menu rather than the fact that my knee had touched Cole’s and he hadn’t moved his. I opted for a chicken dish and a glass of white wine while Cole studied his phone.

I couldn’t wait for my wine to arrive. Truthfully, I worked better after a glass took the edge off. I’d remember the details of the night better because I wouldn’t be feeling self-conscious as I sat next to my sex-god of a boss and his sexy knee.

The hostess led four more people to our table, and introductions began. I scooted out so Cole could stand to introduce himself. Lincoln Mathers was an attractive older man, and his wife was much younger than him. She could’ve passed for a Victoria’s Secret model. The two others were company executives named Dean Humphry and Nathan Leonard. I stared at their faces, trying mnemonic devices to remember their names. I wished I could write this shit down.

Once our orders were placed and the drinks began to flow, I focused on the conversation. Mainly Cole and Lincoln were talking, which was helpful so I didn’t have to remember what five different people were saying. Dean and Nathan observed as Cole gave Lincoln the hard sell.

Cole’s hard sell sounded the same as usual, so I focused on Lincoln’s responses. He seemed receptive, but Cole didn’t pay me to give my opinions on his client’s disposition.

Apart from the knee incident, I had basically no other interaction with Cole. I noticed Alexis staring my way with sympathy more than once, but I didn’t want her pity. I forced a bright smile and moved my attention back to the conversation.

“Get me numbers first thing in the morning, Benson. Your company has great talent, but as you know, money talks. If your bid comes in below your competitors, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

When I heard Lincoln speak those words at the end of the meal, I knew I had a long night ahead of me. Cole would need me to draft a contract while he calculated the costs and tried to pinpoint a lower number than his competitors.

When Cole needed to calculate costs, it always took longer than it should. I’d already started mentally adding and subtracting. I didn’t know the money side of the business the way my boss did, but I had a fairly good grasp on it from working with contracts. I was confident that together we could come up with a number that would be fair and competitive.