Tied Up by the Boss (Office Kink #2)(12)

Regardless, I was relieved when he asked to go. I was sure my arousal was noticeable.

Work provided a great distraction from thinking about what every word, breath, and minutiae of body language meant. Like I was some lovesick teen. Why did I care? What could I possibly do with Parker? Even if he’d had any momentary feelings for me, I was his boss. Lawsuits were filed for less.

Parker placed a clear-front-covered report on my desk before he sat down.

“Woof,” he said and smiled.

I couldn’t help it, I chuckled. I had to admit, something about his unbridled anger and intense frustration made me hot under the collar. But that smile?—it warmed my insides.

He waited patiently as I flipped through the pages. Color charts. Tables and keys. Data summaries with footnotes. Definitely more thorough.

“I’ll go over this in-depth tonight.” I tucked it into my briefcase.

“Thank you, sir,” he replied without cheek.

What a difference. However, he avoided my gaze.

“Am I that repulsive to you that you won’t look me in the eyes?”

At that, his head snapped up. “What? No, I . . . you’re not repulsive. I mean . . . shit, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t. But don’t work too hard to explain it. I expect you to maintain eye contact like a professional. Business 101.”

“It’s not your looks that I find repulsive,” he muttered under his breath.

I sighed. “Enough.” I slapped the report down on the desk for impact.

He wouldn’t take his eyes off me now. It unnerved me some.

We talked about the meeting the following day and some of the tasks I had him complete. I couldn’t deny that he was clever, knowledgeable, and conscientious when it came to his work. It was just that mouth and attitude that got him into trouble. Almost as if he didn’t trust his skills and had to bring attention to them at every moment to whoever would listen. I’m not sure where that came from. Parents, schoolmasters, colleagues, or mates? Whatever it was, it tarnished an otherwise exceptional burgeoning career.

That night when I arrived home, I still had Parker on my mind. He took up residence there despite my efforts to concentrate on other things. But distractions were only temporary. I hated that. How long would this last? It had only been four days.

“Hello, Mum!” I called out from the front door.

“Hello!” she replied in front of the telly.

I tossed my briefcase on the counter and shrugged out of my jacket. “How are you feeling?”

“Not dead.”

“Good. Very good.” I opened the refrigerator and pulled out ingredients for a salad. “It’s someone’s birthday coming up soon. What would you like to do?”

“Tell that person they’re old. And reverse time.”

“I wish I could, Mum. I wish I could.” I sighed, chopping a tomato. “How about a nice dinner out? We could get reservations at The Boulevard? I know how much you enjoy the sole there.”

“Can we invite some people?”

I dumped the tomato into a bowl. “What people?”

“Sarah and her husband. A bloke I met online and his daughter. Oh, and you could invite a friend from work or something.”

I nearly dropped the head of lettuce I was tearing up. “Wait. A man you met online? What the heck have you been doing while I’m at work?”

“Sitting here alone hoping for some company.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then stopped to work the knife out of my heart. “I know it’s tough being here by yourself. I should inquire about working more from home.”

“You working here won’t help, my dear. I want companionship. Someone to talk to. I joined a group online for widowers over seventy. Ken is seventy-nine and living with his daughter and her husband in the city. We’ve been talking over email and have chatted for a month now. I’d like to meet him in person.”

I felt sorely out of the loop. “Why didn’t you mention this to me before?”

“I didn’t want to be a bother.” She waved a hand from the recliner. “You’re busy.”

Did she really think I was too busy to see to her mental welfare? “I’m never too busy for you, Mum. I promise.”

“I know you say that.”

I walked over to the couch and looked at her pointedly. “It’s the truth.”

“Okay, Morgan.” She smiled up at me.

“A younger man, huh?” I sat down near her, hearing the bing of turning letters on the Wheel of Fortune.

She laughed. “Your father was younger. I’ve always found younger men exhilarating.”

Me too. “Why did you want me inviting a friend from work? You know how I feel about mixing business and pleasure.”

“I know. But I’d like you to have someone there. And since you don’t go out, maybe a colleague would attend.”

That made me feel pathetic. “It’s your party. Why do I need a friend?”

“Because I’m your mother and I said so.”

I rolled my eyes and poured some dressing over my salad. “We’ll see. I’ll make reservations. You can invite your beau and his family, and I’ll ask Sarah.”

I ate my dinner as we watched Pat Sajak and Vanna White, my mum yelling out her guesses to the puzzles. My mum?—with more friends, and now dates, than me.