his head. His body was coming to life under her touch. “No.”
“It’s me, Crawford.” She slipped her hands around his back. “I’m the one.”
Crawford sat upright, tossing the covers off the bed. Fuck. What in the hell kind of dream was that? He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to pull the dream back to the center of his focus.
It was fuzzy, but he could feel her pressed against him. He could see every inch of her skin. His heart beat faster. He saw the look in her eye for the first time. It was the one that greeted him every morning in the office. Why didn’t he recognize it until now? This woman was completely in love with him.
----
Mila
T he next morning Mila waited in the Highland kitchen. She would have hopped in her car and driven back to Seattle with the contract if only Crawford had signed the damn thing before they went to bed last night. She didn’t know if there was possibly a more humiliating way to face your boss over a cup of coffee than after you had thrown yourself at him, panty-less, after you’d just redesigned his building.
If he fired her, she would understand. She had crossed every imaginable boss-assistant line in existence.
She waited at the kitchen bar for Crawford to emerge for the morning. She had a pen resting on top of the contract. All he had to do was sign and she would be out of here.
She took a sip of the coffee she had brewed. Maybe this could be a good thing. She could say she’d kissed him. She had her chance and now she knew he wasn’t interested. No more daydreaming and plotting. No more scheming. It was decided. She would bury this crush and move on. The first thing she would do after delivering the contract was update her resume.
She held the mug between her hands. At a new firm she could start over. She could wipe this crush from her memory bank. It was the best plan. The best way to extract herself from utter humiliation.
She wandered to the library and opened the drawers in search of a pad of paper. She sat at the desk and began crafting her resignation letter.
She walked back to the kitchen. Crawford was standing next to the coffee pot.
“Good morning.” He smiled.
“Good morning.” She forced a grin. She wasn’t going to act differently, even though her insides turned to puddles of mush when he looked at her.
“What’s that?” He pointed to the folded notice in her hands.
She cleared her throat. “I’ve decided to hand in my notice.” She stepped forward, shoving the letter into his hand.”
“What?” He shook his head. “Don’t do that. I don’t want it.” He tried to give it back to her.
“I won’t leave of course until you have a proper replacement. I hope you’ll give me a reference.”
“Mila, if this is about last night. I think we just need to take a breath.”
“Yeah. You already said that.” She pulled her shoulders back.
“I won’t accept it.” He shook his head. “No. You can’t just go like that.” He stormed past her, ripping the letter and throwing the scraps into the fireplace.
“I’ll write another one in email,” she stated. “I’ll send it to human resources. You’ll have to accept it.”
“No. You’re not leaving because of something stupid I did.” He paced in front of the fireplace, but she questioned whether he was talking to her. “No.”
“Crawford, I think we both know last night made it clear that it’s time for me to move on from Highland Agency.” She didn’t expect the sting of tears to hit the corners of her eyes. But they were there, nonetheless, burning the tips of her lashes with fresh salt.
“But it’s not.” His eyes became frantic. “You haven’t even given me a chance.”
She walked past the couch, nearing him. “What do you mean?”
“You can’t leave yet.”
“Well, I am. So, please sign the contract and then I can drive it to the board for you. Hide out here until you have the perfect design. We won’t have to see each other again.”
She
Rodger Moffet, Amanda Moffet, Donald Cuthill, Tom Moss