Boss I Love to Hate: An Office Romance(65)

She rubbed her temples with two fingers. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m never drinking again. Ever.”

I chuckled. “Why not? You’re quite cute and affectionate when you’re drunk.”

God, she was adorable. I’d never noticed how she bit her lip when she was frustrated, but now, I could commit to memory all her mannerisms.

“You …” She pointed. “… shut up. I’ll meet you at seven.”

She turned to leave, but my question stopped her.

“Do you want me to pick you up?” I stood, waiting behind her, feeling anxious and eager and excited, all at once.

Who is this guy? I didn’t fucking recognize him. With women, I was never anxious. It had always been the other way around.

She flipped around and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Sure, whatever, fine.”

Not exactly the reaction a guy wanted. But I wasn’t deterred.

As soon as she shut the door behind her, my butt dropped to the chair, and I grinned. Guessed I didn’t have to make an excuse to spend more time with her after all.





Chapter 15





Sonia





Brad never made me nervous. Not his fancy, swanky car or his gorgeous looks. He’d always been the BILK to me—a self-centered, pompous ass who didn’t care about anyone or anything other than himself. But, since I’d seen him with his nieces, my opinion of him had already started to shift. And, now, as he jumped out of his car to open my car door, nervous butterflies stirred in my belly.

“Where to?” he asked, giving me a once-over. He’d never done that before. “You look nice.”

I barely refrained from groaning in despair. He needed to stop.

“Elmwood Park. It’ll take us thirty minutes to get there.” I proceeded to punch in my address in his car navigation.

“Did you do something different with your hair?”

I scrunched my eyebrows together. “Yeah, I pushed it up into an after-work, don’t give two shits bun.” I shook my head. “What’s up with you, Brad?”

“What?” His eyes went to the road.

“You’re being too …” I tried to search for the perfect word. “… nice. It’s weird. Cut it out.”

He went quiet. No comebacks. No cutoffs. Just silence.

Then, he said, “Maybe I want to be the nice guy for once.”

I scoffed. “Since when?”

“Since recently.”

I sensed a tiny bit of hurt behind his tone.

“And why would that be?” I was completely thrown off by his demeanor.

“Because I don’t want to die a grumpy, old man. How about that?”

This man wasn’t making a lick of sense.

“Are you fatally ill, or is something up that you aren’t telling me?” I asked.

We were stopped at a red light, and he turned to look at me, really look at me. “You said something the other day that made me rethink a lot of things.”

I tried to jog my memory. “What things?”

“About being nice for once. About nice guys.”

I threw up both hands. “I was just kidding.” No, I hadn’t been, but still, this different Brad was a strange beast. I wasn’t used to this side of him.

He jerked back, almost looking offended. “Are you saying you want me to be an asshole? Because that makes absolutely no sense.”

“No. I don’t know.” I wanted this conversation over and done and shoved in the glove compartment.

I stared at the traffic forming in front of us as he swerved onto the highway. I just wanted things to be normal between us, which meant him being his dickish self and me giving it back to him.

Silent minutes ticked by, and I watched the clock, knees bouncing, like a kid waiting to get to their destination, asking, Are we there yet? Are we? Are we?

Brad was the first to break the silence. “Is there anything to be aware of, things that should be off topic for tonight?” He stared at the road straight ahead, never turning to me, as though he were talking to the windshield. “Strong political or religious views, for example?”

“Well, just that my family is too Catholic, for lack of a better word. They believe abortion should be illegal and all the other things far rights believe. We go to church almost every Sunday together. They are the over-the-top Italian family. Lots of hugging and kissing and talking over each other. My parents come from a big family. I come from a family of eight and that’s the average. And my extended family is insane. It’s like all my aunts were trying to top each other by procreating.”

“Interesting.” He turned to me then, almost smiling. “I want to know a little more about your immediate family before I’m thrown into the fire. Tell me about them.”

I eyed him. “Really? This is just dinner to placate my aunt.”

“Just answer the question,” he snapped.

And the bossy boss man was back. I’d take it.

“There’s Marco, Anna, Laura, Rosa, and Stella. I’m the oldest, and then my parents just kept popping out more kids. Marco is a nurse. Anna and Laura go to the University of Michigan so they won’t be there. Rosa and Stella are in high school and hormonal as hell.”