Chapter 20
Charlotte
Tip #20: Sharing work late at night is the love language of overachievers. Nothing says romance like balancing finances together.
I rubbed my aching eyes, struggling to focus on the last few columns of the Excel spreadsheet. The numbers blurred into an indecipherable mess. Outside Isaac’s office window, the inky black sky pressed against the glass like a velvet curtain. Through the open door, I could see the dimmed lighting of the team area, casting long shadows across empty workstations.
“Done,” I announced, my voice slicing through the silence. I winced, realizing Isaac and I hadn’t spoken for at least an hour.
Isaac stirred at his desk. “Come again?” he said, his voice rusty with disuse.
“I’m done,” I repeated, softer this time. “I finished reviewing all your documents.”
“Really?” Isaac stretched, his dress shirt pulling taut across his surprisingly athletic shoulders as he stood.
I nodded, opening the folder on my computer. “Yes. I reviewed every spreadsheet and verified the information before copying it into your presentation.”
Isaac leaned over me, bracing a hand on the back of my chair. His cologne—a hint of sandalwood and citrus—wafted over me. I held my breath, hyperaware of his proximity.
“Charlotte, this is impressive,” he murmured, scanning the screen. “As always, your work is incredibly efficient and precise.”
I shrugged. “It was fussy work but nothing too difficult. You’ve got the hard part, as you and Samuel are presenting it to the company board tomorrow.”
Isaac’s eyes met mine, his gaze intense behind his stylish frames. “Don’t downplay your abilities. No one else on the team could have worked at this pace and produced such trustworthy results.”
I swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you for staying late to help—especially after vowing to cut back on overtime.”
I laughed, and the sound echoed in the quiet office. “Yeah, I failed on that front. But I’m glad I could help you and pull one last night together before I leave next week.”
Isaac’s smile in response was devastating—all perfect white teeth and crinkled eyes. My heart did a pathetic little flip-flop.
If only we weren’t looking for different things out of life!
I held his gaze and smiled in response.
He sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”
“You’ll survive. You’re the real power of the department,” I said.
Isaac exhaled a huff that could have been mistaken for laughter. With him braced on my chair and leaning over me I felt his breath on the side of my face. “You mean I’m the department tyrant and you are the benevolent second in command,” he said. “Without you to smooth the way, the finance department will be in shambles within the month.”
“At least you know they’ll be too scared to lead a coup,” I joked. (In reality no one would naysay Isaac because he really was an excellent CFO.)
He chuckled, a rich sound that made my toes curl in my pinching heels. “And no matter what, even if I give you the traditional offer of half of my kingdom, nothing could tempt you to stay?”
“You would be correct, Your Majesty,” I said. “Some of us want a life outside this place.”
“Overrated.” Isaac play-scoffed.
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the little thrill his playful banter sent through me. “Says the guy who practically lives in his office.”
Isaac leaned even closer to me. “I’ll have you know I left the office before eight p.m. twice this week.”
“Wow, look at you, practically a slacker.”
Isaac laughed again, and I was overly conscious of how close we were. Our eyes locked, and the air between us crackled with unspoken tension. I could count every fleck of silver in his gray eyes and see the day-old stubble darkening his jaw.
Desperate to break the spell, I cleared my throat and scooted my chair back. Isaac straightened, looking a bit dazed himself.
“I’m really going to miss you, Charlotte,” he said softly.
I forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Of course you will. I’m the only other workhorse in the office who is willing to put in these insane hours.”
Isaac shook his head as he returned to his desk. “It’s not your work or your role I was referring to. I meant I’ll miss you . Just you… being here.”
My heart stuttered. What was that supposed to mean? I tugged at the strap of my heel as I tried not to leap to conclusions, but it was hard to keep my thoughts grounded when Isaac was staring at me like he wanted to eat me.
Isaac’s eyes flicked to my feet. He raised an eyebrow, then rolled his chair closer and held out his hands. “Give them here.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Your feet,” he clarified. “They’re hurting, right? Come on—I’ll give you a foot massage.”
My brain short-circuited. Isaac Warner—CFO and millionaire—wanted to give me a foot rub? This had to be a stress-induced hallucination. Isaac didn’t like touching people in general, much less touching someone’s feet .
“I… that’s not…” I stammered.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “It’s the least I can do after keeping you here so late.”
I hesitated. Letting my very attractive boss touch my feet? This was a recipe for disaster. But it was late, I was exhausted, and my feet were killing me.
“I’m leaving in a week. A week ,” I muttered to remind myself, then lifted my feet onto his lap.
Isaac’s fingers were surprisingly gentle as he undid the straps of my heels and set my shoes aside. His touch, warm and deliberate, sent a shiver up my spine—one I tried to ignore. Then his hands wrapped around my foot, steady and sure, his palms heating my skin. I swallowed. This was fine. Totally fine.
But then his thumbs pressed into the bottoms of my feet, firm but careful, and I exhaled a sharp breath. His touch was more than just competent—it was focused, like everything else he did, and somehow that made it even worse. Or better. My pulse quickened as he traced slow, measured circles along the ball of my foot, his fingertips dragging just enough to send little shocks of awareness up my legs.
I shifted slightly, once again aware of how physically close we were, of how his dark lashes framed those unreadable gray eyes as he concentrated on his task. The room felt warmer. More intimate.
When his thumbs pressed into my arches, I winced and stiffened up. “Ouch.”
He chuckled, not unkindly. “That would be the price of wearing high heels.”
As he continued working, the sharp pain faded to a dull ache. His strong fingers kneaded my sore muscles, and I felt myself melting into the chair.
“That does beg the question,” Isaac said, his brow furrowed in concentration, “why do you wear these kinds of shoes if they hurt so much? They’re not required by the company dress code.”
“It’s pure vanity,” I admitted. “You’re so tall I feel like a hobbit next to you without them.”
Isaac’s hands stilled, and he looked up at me, eyes narrowed. “You’re joking.”
“No.” Feeling a little awkward, I rubbed the back of my neck. “In fact, it’s one of the reasons I had to resign. I refuse to develop bunions before I hit thirty-five.”
For a moment, Isaac stared at me. Then he burst out laughing, a deep, rich sound that sent my heart from my chest to my throat.
“Oh, Charlotte.” He shook his head as he moved to my ankles. His touch became softer, more of a caress than a massage. It was… distracting. “You should have said something.”
“What would you have done? Gotten me a box to stand on?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I would have hired someone to follow you around with a step stool.”
“Oh yes,” I drawled, “because that would have been very professional and not at all a waste of company resources.”
We shared a smile, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just us, alone in the dimly lit office, his hands on my skin, my heart in my throat.
My eyelids grew heavy as Isaac’s fingers worked their magic on my ankles. The temptation to curl up against him like a contented cat was growing.
I stifled a yawn and glanced at my phone. “How could it be nine already?”
Isaac’s hands stilled. “Time to call it a night.” He carefully slipped my high heels back onto my feet and even buckled the ankle straps.
As he set my feet on the ground, his fingers lingered for a moment, as if reluctant to break contact. I tried not to read too much into it.
“Come in late tomorrow,” he said. “At least an hour or two.”
“Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.” I turned back to my computer and closed out of my work programs. When I stood, my back protested with a series of pops that would put a bowl of Rice Krispies to shame.
Isaac was already at the door, retrieving my trench coat from the coat stand. He held it for me so I could shrug it on without struggling.
“Thanks again for your help, Charlotte,” he said softly.
I turned to face him, studying his hair—which was uncharacteristically mussed and gave him a more casual attractiveness—and the warmth in his eyes. He looked at me like I was someone important, and the soft lighting caught the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the slight furrow of his brow, the quiet exhaustion he rarely let show.
And then it hit me.
Like a slow, inevitable tide rising around me, swallowing up every carefully maintained boundary, every excuse I’d made to keep my heart safe, I realized it.
I was in love with Isaac Warner.
Completely, hopelessly in love with him.
Despite all my efforts to keep things professional over the years, and despite every warning I’d given myself since Isaac started his pursuit, I’d fallen hard. It wasn’t just the late nights working side by side or the way he trusted me implicitly. It wasn’t even the way he’d just held my coat for me, a small but uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture from a man who rarely slowed down for anyone. It was him—his stubbornness, his focus, the rare glimpses of vulnerability he only let me see.
Before I could overthink it, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him in an impulsive hug.
Isaac froze for a second, caught off guard. But then his arms slid around me, strong and reassuring, and he pulled me closer to his chest.
I briefly rested my cheek against his shoulder until I felt him shift. Assuming he was breaking up the embrace, I started to pull away, but when I glanced up at my boss and his gaze locked with mine, I realized that wasn’t what he was intending at all.
Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, giving me plenty of opportunity to back away.
I didn’t.
His lips met mine, soft and questioning at first, then with growing urgency. I tasted coffee and a hint of mint. My fingers found their way into his hair, and I felt, more than heard, a low rumble in his chest.
When we finally broke apart, Isaac rested his chin on the top of my head. My heart was racing, and I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Yeah,” he agreed, a smile in his voice.
Reality started to creep back in. What had I done? What were we doing? It was late, and I was exhausted. There was a chance I’d feel differently about… this… in the morning.
“I should go,” I said reluctantly. I pulled back just enough to smile up at Isaac, my heart still racing even as I tried to ease out of the intensity of the moment with a half joke. “You know, Logan’s going to send HR after both of us for kissing in your office.”
Isaac chuckled. “It’s a possibility. Logan does seem to have eyes everywhere.”
I laughed, but it caught in my throat as Isaac reached out and twirled a loose strand of my hair around his finger. The simple touch made me shiver.
“May I drive you home?” he asked, his voice low and intimate.
My brain scrambled to function. “I, uh, I need my car. So I can drive to work tomorrow.”
Isaac’s lips quirked up in that sexy half smile of his. “Text me when you’re ready in the morning. I’ll pick you up.”
I hesitated, torn between wanting to say yes and knowing I should probably keep my distance. But before I could decide, Isaac leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my neck, just below my ear.
Oh.
“OK.” I heard myself agreeing, my voice embarrassingly pitchy.
Isaac’s pleased expression made my knees weak. “Great. Just give me a moment to save some documents.”
A kiss on my forehead, and he left me, stalking across the office and briefly standing behind his computer. I watched him, my mind reeling.
Who knew I was weak for neck kisses? You learn something new every day I guess.
“All set,” Isaac announced, shutting down his computer.
“Hmm?” I said, surprised and a touch suspicious. “Are you really, truly calling it quits for the night?”
Isaac tilted his head—I didn’t know I had a thing for head tilts either. “Not quite. I’ll work from my home office after I drop you off.”
I cringed. I should’ve seen that coming. Same old workaholic Isaac.
Isaac furrowed his brow as he joined me at the door. “You OK?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I just need some sleep. You should try to get some rest too, you know.”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Isaac held out his hand to me.
I hesitated, unsure. Was I giving him too much leeway? But then Isaac smiled at me—that warm, genuine smile that made my heart skip—and I found myself placing my hand in his.
Our fingers intertwined, his large hand engulfing mine. His thumb brushed my knuckles, and a jolt of electricity shot through my body.
Together, we left his office and made our way through the dimly lit team space. As we walked, a nagging thought wormed its way into my mind.
I really hoped I wouldn’t regret this in the morning.