Chapter Sixteen
Simon
I woke to an empty bed and the scent of something savory drifting through the apartment.
Raina had slipped away a while ago—I’d felt the mattress shift when she got up, heard the bathroom door close and the shower run. For a moment, I’d considered joining her, imagining the water streaming down her body, the surprised gasp she’d make when I stepped in behind her.
But I’d been so content.
That was the word for it, wasn’t it? Content in a way that felt foreign to me, almost unrecognizable.
I never stayed the night after sex. Never allowed myself to linger in a woman’s bed, wrapped in her sheets, breathing in her scent.
I always left before things could become complicated—before expectations could form.
Yet I’d drifted back to sleep in Raina’s bed like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Now, fully awake, I heard movement in the kitchen. The clatter of dishes. The soft thud of an oven door closing. My stomach growled in response to the delicious smells permeating the air.
I got up and took a quick shower, pulling on my jeans afterward but leaving my shirt behind. Barefoot, I padded down the hallway toward the kitchen and stopped in the doorway.
Raina stood at the counter with her back to me, now pulling a casserole dish from the oven.
She was wearing a well-worn sleep shirt that hit mid-thigh, her legs bare beneath it, her hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head.
She wasn’t trying to impress anyone. She was just… wonderfully, perfectly her.
My heart did something strange in my chest—a twist, a flutter, something I couldn’t quite name.
These feelings weren’t something I was used to navigating.
I’d spent years compartmentalizing relationships with women, keeping things strictly physical, maintaining clear boundaries.
I didn’t ask to spend the night. I didn’t linger for breakfast. I left before intimacy could deepen into anything more complicated than mutual satisfaction.
But now that I’d had Raina, now that I knew what it felt like to hold her, taste her, fall asleep with her body curved against mine, I couldn’t imagine letting her go. Couldn’t imagine letting this go, whatever it was becoming.
I sensed walls with her, though. Understandable, given our working relationship. She was being careful, protecting herself, and I couldn’t blame her for that. Whatever happened between us going forward would need to be navigated delicately.
Especially since I was still trying to make sense of my own feelings—feelings that were entirely new to me.
I pushed off the doorframe. “Whatever you made smells incredible.”
Raina turned, and her eyes immediately dropped to my bare chest. She bit her bottom lip, and the way her gaze traveled over me—slow and appreciative—made me have to forcibly restrain myself from crossing the room, throwing her over my shoulder, and carrying her back to bed.
“It’s an egg casserole,” she said, recovering quickly, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks. “Cheese, sausage, mushrooms. Nothing fancy, but it’s filling.”
I smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
She gestured toward the coffee maker. “I made a fresh pot of coffee. Help yourself. Cups are in the cupboard and cream in the refrigerator.”
I moved to the counter and poured myself a cup, then added a splash of cream, taking a moment to appreciate the simple domesticity of it all. Raina set the casserole on the small table, and I joined her with my coffee, sliding into the chair across from hers.
We served ourselves in comfortable silence, and for a few minutes, we simply ate. The casserole was delicious. Hearty and flavorful, exactly what I needed after last night.
“That game was something else,” I finally said, keeping things light. “The way Miles made that final shot—I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it.”
Raina smiled, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. “He’s been focused on perfecting that move for months. I’ve heard him talk about it, but seeing it work in a real game…” She shook her head. “I nearly lost my voice screaming.”
“I noticed.” I smirked. “Pretty sure you deafened me in my left ear.”
She laughed, a genuine sound that warmed something in my chest. “You were just as loud.”
“Guilty.” I took a sip of coffee. “I’ve loved hockey since I was a kid. My dad used to take my brothers and me to games whenever he could. Some of my best memories are from those nights.”
“That’s sweet,” Raina said softly. “It’s nice that you have that.”
We talked a bit more—about the game, about sports in general, about nothing consequential. But I could see she was holding something back. There was a reservation in her eyes and a carefulness to her words that told me something else was on her mind.
When we’d both finished eating, she set her fork down and looked at me across the table. Her teeth worried her bottom lip.
“Simon… what is this?” she finally asked, indicating a hand between the two of us. “I need to understand where this is going. For you. For us.”
I set down my own fork, giving her my full attention. I considered my words carefully. She deserved honesty, even if I didn’t have all the answers.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I know it’s complicated, given our working relationship. But I don’t have any regrets about last night.” I held her gaze. “Do you?”
She shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t regret it. But I’m concerned about how this might affect things at work. You’re my boss, Simon. If this goes wrong…”
“It doesn’t have to affect anything. We’re adults. We can navigate this.” I said, my practical side emerging. “Besides, there’s no policy against dating coworkers. I should know. I helped write the employee handbook.”
Her lips twitched, but the concern didn’t leave her eyes.
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want this to happen again. I still want you, Raina. Last night wasn’t a one-time thing for me.”
She processed that for a moment before she rose and started clearing the table, and I stood to help her. We moved around each other in the small kitchen, rinsing plates in the sink, her putting away leftovers. The conversation continued in fragments.
“I just keep thinking about what happens if things end badly,” she said, not looking at me as she scraped the remaining casserole into a container. “If there’s conflict. If you decide you’re done with… whatever this is. Where does that leave me?”
I didn’t miss the worry in her voice, which I understood.
“I’m not a complete asshole,” I teased, filling the sink with dish soap and water before turning more serious.
“You actually hold all the cards here, Raina. I would never do anything to put your job in jeopardy. Your position is secure regardless of what happens between us.”
She turned on the faucet and started to wash the dishes. I leaned against the counter, watching her.
“That’s what I thought about my last boss,” she muttered, barely audible over the running water.
Regardless, I heard them and I realized, suddenly, that I knew almost nothing about what had happened at her previous job.
Kurt had never told me the details, and I’d never asked.
Not when she first interviewed, not after I’d hired her.
She’d been so competent from day one that I hadn’t given her past much thought because it didn’t matter to me.
But clearly, whatever had happened still haunted her.
“Tell me what happened,” I said quietly.
Raina’s hands stilled in the soapy water. She glanced at me, surprise flickering across her features, then something else—a decision being made.
She turned off the faucet and dried her hands on a towel, then moved to lean against the counter across from me. The distance felt intentional, like she needed the space to share this.
I didn’t push. Didn’t move closer. Just waited.
“When I was hired at the advertising firm, I started at the bottom,” she began, her voice soft but steady.
“But I worked my way up to executive assistant over time. I was so proud of that, you know, considering I didn’t have a degree.
The first person I worked for in that position was great.
She was hard-working and smart, the kind of woman I wanted to emulate. ”
A faint smile touched her lips, self-deprecating and sad. I felt something tighten in my chest—the urge to protect her from whatever was coming next because I knew it couldn’t be good.
“But then she got a new job, and I was transferred to Mr. Hull.” The smile vanished completely. “He was… different.”
She paused, taking a deep breath. Her fingers twisted in the dish towel.
“Actually, he was ruthless. It wasn’t just about putting the job first or being ambitious.
He was self-centered in a way that made him willing to cross any line to get ahead.
Taking credit for other people’s work. Harassing or blackmailing anyone he considered a threat.
Manipulating every situation to make himself look like the hero.
” Her jaw tightened. “As his assistant, I was expected to not just look the other way while he did these things, but to help him.”
“But you wouldn’t.”
I didn’t phrase it as a question. I knew Raina, knew her integrity and her stubborn moral compass. She would never compromise herself that way.
“No,” she confirmed, meeting my eyes. “I wouldn’t.”
“And he fired you for it.”
“Eventually.” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “He told me I was weak. That I wasn’t suited for the business world if I wasn’t willing to do whatever it took to get ahead.”
My jaw clenched. A spark of anger ignited in my chest, hot and protective and fierce. “He actually said that to you?”