Dear Grumpy Boss (Bossily Ever After #1)

3. Zayn

Three

Zayn

What I’m doing is wrong.

Maybe skirting the line into unethical even. But I didn’t come up in a world that wasn’t built for people like me without maneuvering people and situations.

Rifling through Sasha’s giant tote bag in the privacy of my office is definitely not…right. I mean, I just want a little extra information on how to woo her into staying.

I place the bag on my desk and take a peek.

A smile pulls at my lips. No wonder the woman needs a tote bigger than her.

There are three paperbacks—all weathered and lovingly worn, neatly standing to a side. All romance novels.

As long as I’ve known Sasha, she’s knee-deep in a book.

When I flip through each title, I see handwritten annotations in the margins in colorful gel pens. For just a second, I consider canceling the company annual party so that I can read through her notes.

Suddenly, I’m curious to know everything about her. But I can’t afford for her to come back and catch me in the act.

There’s a small cosmetic case with a new toothbrush, painkillers, noise-canceling earbuds, gum and a particular kind of floss that I like. All are things I need on my trips.

I turn the pouch to see “Fragile Boss TLC” written on it, with a devil emoji drawn in.

Laughter bursts out of me, from deep within my stomach. I find two more pouches—one with specialty snacks, and one with various stress-relieving/calming toys.

Aside from the romance novels, is there anything in the bag that’s not about me?

After pushing aside lip gloss, a bunch of loose hair bands, and a sheaf of clipped coupons—most of which are for Devil’s Donuts— I find two things.

Her e-reader and her journal.

For as long back as I can remember, Sasha has been writing in her journal, morning, noon and night. I rub my finger over the leather grain of the journal cover.

Olive green and worn-out. The journal is thick, with crinkled paper. Colorful Post-it flags emerge from the pages and a donut charm hangs from the pen-loop.

On the right bottom corner are her initials, carved into the leather. The tactile sensation as I run my fingers all over it is as pleasant as if I were touching her skin.

I lift the journal to my nose and inhale the scent of the faded leather.

Just exploring her bag is a feast for my senses. And if I could get my hands on those lush curves…I would feast on her, too. Make it worth her while.

All her secrets enfolded within those pages…

Something sticks in my throat. I want to know her deepest secrets, but I can’t cross that line.

Shaking my head, I put the journal back into the bag and pick up the e-reader.

It sits in a plum-colored cover, once again nearly worn off, with stickers all over it. “Smut-Slut,” “HEA for All,” and one that says, “Curvy girls are horny girls too.”

A spark zips down my spine. My horny little assistant has quite the delicious ring to it. But who is she horny for? My hands shake at the thought of Mouse lusting after some asshole who wouldn’t be good enough for her and I turn on the e-reader accidentally. The cover’s old but the device is brand-spanking-new, with a colored-ink display.

It’s one of the models Nathaniel and I invested in a couple of years ago. When I announced in the staff meeting that the company had sent me a complimentary device ahead of market availability, Sasha’s eyes glowed with suppressed excitement. Later that evening, I quietly left it on her desk.

Her smile when she saw it next morning is etched into my brain.

The memory reminds me how easy it is to please Sasha.

I run my finger along the bottom edge just as the man-chest covers and the titles catch my eye.

I know Sasha is a hardcore romance reader. Adam has teased her enough about it. Once, when he went too far, she lectured him about respecting her agency and her way of exploring her sexuality. And just like that, I’m off again, thinking of ways I can be part of that exploration. Sighing, I look at the screen.

I’m not surprised by the gleaming pectorals. The titles are another matter.

There’s variety here—paranormal and sci-fi and aliens and historical—but the theme is constant.

Boss and employee. Boss and assistant. Boss and nanny. Boss and chauffeur. Boss and housekeeper. Boss and maid.

My assistant has very specific… taste in her romance novels.

I freeze as a new thought strikes me. In a blink, my body goes from freezing to a full-body flush. Heat zings through my veins and I feel like that avatar again. Unlocking a new level in my quest to understand Sasha.

I’m her boss and she gluts herself on that particular theme in romance. I squint at one of the subtitles and then another.

I’m actively unhappy here , she said. Now that I mull it over, it’s such a specific statement to make. And she’s definitely not leaving for another man. I’m sure of that.

Is she quitting because of what she feels for me? What type of feelings are they?

Is my shy, bookish, curvy—and apparently very horny—assistant attracted to me? My heart makes a leap.

The idea of figuring out what Mouse wants from me makes my cock thicken painfully in my trousers.