Misadventures with the Boss (Misadventures #12)(27)

Jackson





Hardly anyone came into the office on Saturday.

It was always an option, of course—including overtime pay. But on a sunny May afternoon like this? I could hardly expect to find people sitting in their gray cubicles, staring at their computer screens and clacking away on their keyboards.

In fact, if it hadn’t been for the upcoming merger, I might have been out on the town too, enjoying the sunshine…or, better yet, watching it pour in through Piper’s bedroom window. If there was a window in her bedroom.

Over the past week, our arrangement had been working well. We met during lunch breaks or after work, but I’d never been over to her place, and I was starting to get curious. I knew that she walked to work, so she couldn’t have lived too far off, but that was as much as I knew. And, if I was being honest with myself, as much as I knew about her.

From the three times we’d been together since Monday in the elevator, I was learning how to make her back arch into me and how to get her cheeks to turn that pretty rosy color I loved. But other than her hyper-organization and the few items on her schedule I was able to view?

Piper Daniels was as much a mystery to me as the pyramids.

And for some strange reason, it was beginning to piss me off.

Tapping my fingers along the edge of my desk, I picked up the receiver, dialed the number I’d already memorized, and waited as it rang, and rang, and rang again. There was a click followed by a cool, robotic voice instructing me to leave a message.

Frowning, I hung up.

Where would Piper be on a Saturday morning in a city full of people she didn’t know? And why the fuck hadn’t she brought her cell phone? Or was she just screening my calls? The thought made me frown.

It was too early to go to a bar or a club. Maybe out for brunch? Or a run in the park? Did she like to sit on the edge of the pond and look at fish? Or maybe the library?

Did she even like to read?

Letting out a snarl of frustration, I dialed her number again and waited as it went to voice mail again. Apparently, wherever she was, she was too busy to take my call.

Unless she was at home and sleeping in…

If that was the case, then I knew exactly what to do.

It only took me five minutes to pull up her employee information form. I quickly entered her address into my phone and started the route there. After stashing the few bits and pieces I’d been working on, I headed out to the parking garage to my car, cursing myself the whole way.

This was ridiculous. She wasn’t some southern belle I was wooing to become my bride or something. But now that it was lodged in my mind…the thought of bringing her breakfast in bed and climbing in beside her?

I couldn’t shake it.

When I finally got onto the street, I made a pit stop at the little bakery at the corner and got a dozen assorted pastries before following the route again. It was no wonder she walked to work. Her place wasn’t far off, though the neighborhood was hardly one I’d ever visited in my free time. It was filled with apartments and little shops, but if you didn’t call the place home, you’d have no reason to visit here.

She was new to the city, I knew that much, but I’d never thought to ask where she’d come from. Or why she’d come here at all.

Totally the norm for me, but I realized now with a start how strange it was and how much I suddenly wanted to know the answers to those unasked questions.

When I reached the squat, brick building, I passed a man in a uniform leaning against the entryway pillars and smoking something that did not smell like a cigarette. Nodding to him, I stepped into the building and glanced around for a place to have her ring me up. Only there wasn’t one. Instead, there was just a set of elevators and two stairwell doors flanking an empty mailroom and desk. Blinking, I let myself into the elevator and leaned back against the rail.

Was this how she lived? Anyone could just roll up to her apartment door. There was no security of any kind.

I didn’t like that one fucking bit.

The doors dinged, and I stepped into a hallway that smelled just like the guy out front. I glanced both ways until I saw the door marked number eight at the end of the hall.

Holding the white bakery box in one hand, I knocked and then waited for the sound of footsteps. It wasn’t until I heard them that I realized I’d been holding my breath.

The footsteps slowed to a stop in front of the door, and without a pause, the door swung open to reveal Piper with a towel on her head, blinking up at me in shock.

“Hey. Uh, what are you doing here?” she asked, raising a hand to her towel as her cheeks turned pink.

“I should ask you the same thing. This place is a fucking death trap.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyes—one lined with makeup and one without—narrowed.

“I just walked up here, and you didn’t even check to see who it was before swinging the door open. I bet it wasn’t even locked. And what the fuck with no buzzer or anything?”

“I’m sorry, is this some employee safety inspection I wasn’t aware of?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me.

She looked cute as fuck in her towel turban and bare toes, but I wasn’t going to let that sway me. This was serious.

“Look, I know you’re a sweet and trusting soul, but this isn’t whatever backcountry town you came from. You have to watch yourself.”