Romance: The Boss (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

After thirty minutes of trying to find Hannah and lapping up another cocktail, I decide to give up and go home. There’s only so much wandering around by myself with people staring at me oddly that I can handle.

I’m so embarrassed by Clint’s behavior. I just want to curl up into a ball and stay that way for eternity.

Or until enough time passes that people don’t remember the pretty PA who Clint Townsend had danced and had a photograph with, only to rudely walk away from afterward.

I mean come on, that would be humiliating for anyone.

Once again, Clint has reverted back to his taciturn ways.

Well I’m just about done with his game.

After I make the $5,000 donation, I slowly make my way down the magnificent mock gold-and-ivory staircase that was built just for the benefit, located by the center’s entrance. But as I near the last few steps I see Clint standing at the bottom, conversing with a small cluster of socialites.

From this view I’m able to see him entirely, his suave black-and-white tuxedo looking far sharper than the other gentlemen’s.

And to think that I had avoided kissing this guy…I must be mad.

I consider turning around and finding another way out, but the fact that I’m so close to them means I would probably draw even more attention if I suddenly changed direction.

Just as I decide to quickly go forward onto the last step, I miscalculate the distance to it, my whole body now plummeting toward the center’s floor.

I close my eyes and hear the gasps of the crowd, waiting for the impact of my face on the hard surface and the crunch of my nose or arm.

But it never comes.

I feel strong arms suddenly around me, catching me, and guiding me back up. I open my eyes to find that it’s Clint, his panic-stricken face bent close to mine.

Again.

“Lauren, are you all right?” he asks fretfully, his palm pressing into my cheek.

“I think so,” I whisper, my face as bright as a vine-ripened tomato.

This fall makes what happened in the ballroom look like nothing. I’ve just embarrassed myself twice in less than an hour.

“Can you walk?” he asks.

I put my weight down on both feet and feel a pang, but nothing seems broken. “Yes, I can walk.”

“Okay, I’ll help you out,” he says gently, linking my arm in his and ushering me outside.

I avoid looking at him until we’ve reached the valet and the Hummer is parked in front of us.

“I’m sorry,” I say as he helps me into the car, tears forming in my eyes. “I shouldn’t have come tonight. You shouldn’t have asked me.”

“I wanted you to be here. It’s my fault. I…made a mistake.”

I feel my disposition darkening even more. So I’m a mistake to him now? What a way to kick a girl when she’s down.

“Whatever,” I say insolently, moving farther away from him.

“Lauren,” he says softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong tonight. You were professional, exquisite, a great dancer, and yes, somewhat clumsy toward the end”—he chuckles—“but you’re not a mistake. That’s not what I meant.” He steps back to allow the driver to close the door. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you Monday.”

And then it’s just me and the silence in the Hummer, my mouth opening and closing in sheer confusion.

What was even the point of tonight?

What was the point of him asking me to dance and then trying to kiss me?

I have no idea what is going on between Clint and me.

This whole situation is beyond crazy.

This is not how the relationship between a PA and their employer should be.

It’s iniquitous. It’s disreputable. It’s a problem.

And now it feels like the entire world knows it too…

Chapter Fourteen

“So, did you quit?”

“No,” I sigh dejectedly, curling up on the couch next to Brooke.

“What? Why? How did he change your mind?”

I take the tub of ice cream off her and start eating it with the spoon. Salted caramel. Yum, just the comfort food I need right now.

“He apologized again for his behavior,” I sigh, as the salt crystals dissolve on my tongue. “He just wants to put everything that happened at the benefit behind us.”

“Is that it?”

“No, then he explained how much of an asset I am as a PA so he doesn’t want to lose me. But, if I want to move on from Townsend Investments because of his inappropriate ‘advance’ on the dance floor then I can leave in January, six months short of my contract and with full pay for the year.”

“Wow. Well isn’t that generous of him?” Brooke says sharply, shaking her head. “What an asshole…did he say anything else?”

“Yeah, just before I left the office he told me to look at the front page of the Wall Street Journal.”

“Okay, that’s random. Why did he say that?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘Because I just made you famous.’”

“No way! He did not say that. What an egotistical bigot! Wait, what was on the front page? I haven’t seen it today.”

I get up and take the folded copy of the Wall Street Journal out of my handbag and toss it to her.

“Holy shit!” Brooke exclaims, her eyes scanning the photo of Clint and me before she reads out the headline and photo caption:

BILLIONAIRE TOWNSEND MAKES HIGHEST EVER DONATION

FOR CHARITY BENEFIT

Pictured above: Clint Townsend with date, Lauren Swift

Is this Wall Street’s hottest new romance?

She pauses at the end for effect, putting down the paper before igniting back at me.

“What the frick, Lauren?! You’re like a celebrity now! And dating a billionaire! A billionaire who is a total dick, but hey, that’s just semantics. Way to go, girlfriend!”

I’d been expecting Brooke to react this way. She couldn’t look more thrilled. No, it’s more profound than that—I think she’s actually proud of me.

“This is good news. At least it wasn’t about him running away from you in the ballroom or you falling down those stairs. I still can’t figure out how he managed to catch you in time. That’s some crazy reflex.”

Brooke definitely has two valid points there.

Yes, it would’ve been far worse if the headline had been about Clint storming off, or me tripping on the staircase.

And yes, he was lucky to have caught me; he must have seen me long before I noticed him standing at the bottom.

“I know,” I say. “But still. It’s weird; I don’t know what he wants from me. It’s like we keep mixing up signals or something.”

“So he still hasn’t mentioned the one-night stand?”

“Nope. Honestly, Brooke, I really don’t think he remembers. Surely he would’ve admitted it by now?”

But she grimaces and shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe he thinks you don’t remember and he’s playing it cool? Men can be like that too. You know…you could always just bite the bullet and mention it.”

“Are you kidding?” I surge at her. “And make things a thousand times more awkward around the office? No way. I’d rather both of us just secretly go on, pretending.”

“Do you really, though? I think the whole thing is actually kind of nuts. You’re both grown adults and work together. The truth is going to come out eventually.”

I know Brooke is right: what Clint and I are doing is childish.

I will bring the one-night stand up with him but just not until things have settled down and we’ve established a better working relationship. I fear that if I were to bring it up now it would only make things worse, and I don’t want that.

“No matter what happens, I got your back, honey,” Brooke says sincerely, drawing me toward her and into a hug.

There’s that layer of Brooke I’ve been waiting to see again.

The one that doesn’t care about fashion or dating or what social position you are.

The one that is thoughtful and down-to-earth and truly understands.

The one that comes out precisely when I need it to.

Part Three

Chapter One

One Month Later

What do you get when you have back-to-back conferences and a stressed-out boss who needs to close three business deals by midday tomorrow, which also happens to be the same day as Thanksgiving?

A freaking nightmare, that’s what.

Clint is flying home to South Dakota on his private jet this afternoon to spend Thanksgiving with his family. It’s not something I anticipated in his schedule; he usually puts business before anything else.

But ever since his dad died a few years ago, it’s become a tradition of his mom’s to have all four Townsend heirs home for the holiday. It was his father’s favorite time of year, and Delilah wants to celebrate it all the more because of it. 

“And Hell hath no fury like my mother when one of us kids misses Thanksgiving!” Clint had also pointed out earlier when I dared to suggest he fly out tomorrow afternoon instead, as it’d be a lot easier to administer the conferences.

But high winds and icy conditions are forecast for Rapid City then, which could result in several delayed flights and the airport in lockdown.

“So I’ll need you to come with me, Lauren,” he’d then said, completely putting me on the spot.

It was five minutes past eight and I’d only just walked into the office. I hadn’t had a coffee, he hadn’t had his coffee (as I was still holding it), and there he was, looking as drop-dead gorgeous as ever and dumping all that on me.

“Excuse me?” I’d squeaked, not sure if I’d heard him accurately.

“I have to seal these deals. I need you to do the note-taking for the videoconferences, one on the plane, one once we’re grounded and at my folks place in Rapid City. Then there’s the one with Japan tomorrow morning. I need you on this. It’s not up for discussion.”

Like hell it’s not
, I’d thought at the time.

The arrogance of him.

“But I’m…I mean, I have no luggage. And where would I stay?”

“I’ve organized a car to run you home to collect some things. Pack for a couple of days. You’ll be staying with my family at the manor.”

“Okay, but—”

“What, Lauren? I need to call up the Chicago office in the next thirty seconds or I’m going to lose a lot of money!”

“I want a few days off, then,” I’d blurted out. “To go home to Colorado…to see my dad.”

I was actually going to ask him for the time off, anyway.

Last night, my Aunt Meredith had called to say that Dad had entered hospital with pneumonia and even though he’s stable, he wants me to go see him.

I know, as if my life isn’t nerve-racking enough.

Now I have my poor dad to worry about.

“WHAT?” Clint had fumed at me. “WHEN?”

“From Sunday…I can fly out from Rapid City?”

“What? Lauren! You could’ve asked me earlier!”

“Well I found out only last night that my dad isn’t well, and you could’ve told me yesterday about this South Dakota bullshit!”

I didn’t want to get angry with him, but the audacity of him to get upset with me when he’d practically gone and done the same thing and the thought of how my dad could have died, it all just overwhelmed me.

I’m only human.

But the sound of our raised voices had permeated through the glass and out to the other offices.

“Everything all right in here?” Bill had asked gruffly, poking his head in.

“Yes, Bill. Thank you,” Clint had replied coldly before turning back to me. “Fine. I’ll give you three days. Now go get packing. I need to make this call.”

So that was how this morning went down and I haven’t spoken to Clint since.

I’ve already gone and come back from the apartment, only to find him still yakking away with the Chicago office. Now all I can do is sit at my desk with my bags packed and wait for him to finish so we can leave for South Dakota.

“Lauren! Is everything ready?”

I jump when he rattily calls out, slowly rising from my desk to walk to the open door.

“Yes. I spoke with the head pilot, and the jet is on standby. Everything is in order.”

“Good!”

I see his mood isn’t any better.

Wonderful.

“And you’ve memorized the setup of the video output and input for the jet? I don’t want to have the signal drop out mid-conference!”

“If it drops out, Clint, it won’t be because of anything I’ve done. It’ll be because we’re on a plane, thousands of feet above land, where reception is not exactly award winning,” I reply sarcastically, peeved by the fact that he even had to ask me such a thing.

How many video linkups have I had to do for him now? At least twenty.

He picks up his briefcase off the desk and strides to me.

For a minute I think he’s going to hit me—that’s how steadfast he is—but despite his frequent outbursts, I know he would never do that.

Clint may be a lot of things, but he’s not violent…with people, anyway.

Material objects, on the other hand, I can’t vouch for.

I look at him carefully, the faint tick of a smirk etched on his face.

“Well I see you’re still all rainbows and unicorns this morning, Miss Swift,” he taunts before walking past me out the door.

Ooh, the hypocrisy of Clint Townsend!

Ever since the benefit, this is what our relationship has been like. Part professional, part argumentative, and only a sliver of wit.

We haven’t had any more “moments” or “long stares” since he told me that he just wanted to put what happened at the benefit behind us.

In fact, the last month has been fairly monotonous.

Whenever we are in a room alone together, Clint always finds a way to make sure it isn’t for long—whether it’s a phone call he has to make or an errand I have to run or simply that he needs to get back to some paperwork.

Which has left me to do a lot of thinking.

I’ve decided that come January, I’m going to take him up on his offer of leaving Townsend Investments. I’m going to ask for a strong letter of recommendation and then move on. It’s just not acceptable to work so closely with someone whom I can’t deny I have strong feelings for anymore.

And who also just happens to be my boss…whom I’ve already slept with.

The last month has only made it worse for me in that regard.

I miss Clint’s pensive expressions, his witty remarks, the way he would tell me snippets about his life from out of nowhere, and the way his eyes had always seemed to light up on mine. It feels like I’d taken all those things for granted and pretended they weren’t happening so I wouldn’t have to deal with what they could mean.

But here I am, torturing myself over it anyway.

Maybe he likes me, maybe he doesn’t.

Either way, I need to break free of Clint Townsend.

“Lauren! Are you coming?” Clint shouts again, this time from halfway down the office aisle.

I don’t answer him. I just bite my tongue, take a deep breath, grab my luggage, and follow.

South Dakota, the gateway to the Black Hills, Rapid City, and the home of the Townsend Empire, here I come.