Boss I Love to Hate: An Office Romance(35)

I had no words. The cat had taken my tongue and swallowed it or fed it to the mice. Shit if I knew.

“Well?” She lifted an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

I snapped back to attention, reminding myself that I couldn’t look at my secretary in that way. I wasn’t allowed to want her. My brothers would kill me.

“That … that’s the dress.” My voice was hoarse, unlike my confident demeanor.

I averted my stare and bent down to pick up my phone to hide these weird emotions.

She’s your secretary. Damn it. Get it together.





Chapter 9





Sonia





As the week flew by, I could hardly believe the wedding was a day away. When I had asked Brad to the rehearsal dinner, he’d been more than up for it, not like he had a choice because it was part of the deal. I had to introduce my pretend boyfriend to a good core of my friends that would be in attendance on the big day so the wedding day would be less awkward if that was even possible.

I placed my Toyota Camry in park in front of Brad’s palatial home and stepped out of the car. I didn’t think I would ever get used to the amount of luxury that surrounded the Brisken family. Lights highlighted the pillars of the mansion that framed the door, and the window-height shrubbery that was etched against the building were like lines against a painting.

I walked into the house, and Sarah greeted me. Her Beats by Dre hung around her neck, and her eyes lit up before she leaned in and gave me a hug.

“Sonia!” Mary shouted from down the hall, rushing toward me.

I scooped her up—an automatic reaction—and held her close. “Goodness.” I laughed. “What a greeting. I think I should come over more often.”

“You should! You should!” Mary twirled her fingers around my simple silver necklace.

The last time I’d seen the girls was when I picked them up from school weeks ago. Was it weird to say I’d missed them?

“Why don’t you come to visit?” Mary asked, pushing out her bottom lip. “I want to play Life again. I’m better now. I’ve mastered the roll where I twist my fingers and can control what numbers I want to get.”

“Yeah, I vote for game night soon,” Sarah added.

Brad walked into the room in jeans and a dark gray Henley. His hair was shorter. He must have gotten a haircut after work.

I stared for a second, feeling out of sorts. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Brad in jeans. They were dark-washed and not overly tight but tight enough where I could tell he had definition in his thighs.

“What about game night?” Brad asked, giving me a once-over.

Why did it feel like Brad had been judging my choice in clothing lately? I wiped a sweaty, self-conscious hand down my knee-length jean skirt.

Every time I turned toward him when I walked into his office or any room, I always felt like he was watching me. Too closely.

“Sonia promised me another game night.” Mary wrapped both arms around my neck, bringing herself closer and flashing me a you can’t say no to me smile.

No wonder Brad fell for her antics. I doubted anyone could avoid the cuteness overload of this little blonde. Guys everywhere would be goners in the future. Talk about Heartbreak Hotel.

I cleared my throat, not waiting for Brad to respond. “We’ll talk about it, okay?”

As I held Mary in my arms and with Sarah glued to my side, I could easily see that lines were getting more blurred by the day. Somewhere between me getting Sarah pads, Brad agreeing to go to this wedding, us shopping and having lunch daily, we’d gone from coworkers to oddly being almost friends.

Mary kissed my cheek. “Please? Pretty, pretty please with cherries on top? Game night. Game night!” She clapped her little hands to match her game-night chorus.

Brad chuckled. “Say yes now, or she’ll up the cuteness.”

I threw him a help me look, but he simply shrugged as if to say arguing was pointless.

“Okay.” I gently dropped Mary on her feet and touched her nose. “I’ll come over. Maybe I can babysit sometime, and we’ll play.”

“Wait a minute here,” Brad gasped loudly, feigning offense. “Don’t count me out. I’m the king of board games.”

I gulped. The song “Blurred Lines” played in my head. Yes, we were definitely friends now if we were playing board games.

Letting it go, I suggested we leave, so we said our good-byes to the girls and headed to my car. The rehearsal dinner was going to start at the church and end at a pizza joint. It was to be casual, so I wore a light-blue satin shirt, knee-length jean skirt, and boots, which, if I wasn’t mistaken, Brad kept staring at.

I glanced down at my watch, noting that we were running a few minutes behind schedule. “We’ll have to hurry.”

“I’m going to drive. My car.” Brad turned toward the garage when I gripped his forearm to stop him.

“Uh, no. That wasn’t the deal. You agreed that I’d drive.” My back straightened, and the beginning of annoyance seeped into my skin.

“That’s before I reevaluated your vehicle situation,” he rudely added. “Your car’s not safe.”

This guy!

Didn’t he realize I drove the girls to school in this car?

Forced friends—that was what we were because I could guarantee that I wouldn’t be friends by choice with this stuck-up, designer-wearing automobile snob. I wanted to put a mute button on him that I could control with a remote.