17. Trey
When I walk backinside my parents’ house I find everyone still in the kitchen, having dessert at the island. I make a beeline for the pie and add a hefty slice to a plate. Grabbing a fork, I take a bite and remain standing across from everyone else. “Mom, this is amazing.”
“Of course it is,” she says, laughing.
“So, Trey, you seem to be fond of Maeve,” Dad says, grinning.
“I am. You were right; she’s a great assistant.”
“It sounds like Gramps means you like Maeve,” Gwen says.
This is starting to feel like a dating intervention.
“I do like her. I said she’s great,” I say, feigning ignorance.
“Don’t be deliberately obtuse, son. You know exactly what we mean.” Dad calls me out on my attempt.
I set my fork on the side of my plate with a little too much force. “That doesn’t mean I want to have a discussion about Maeve.”
“Don’t get worked up, Trey. We only want the best for you,” Mom reassures.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s best for me?” My sarcasm can’t be missed.
“Maeve is best for you, Dad.”
“Gwennie, what are you talking about?” I tone down the bass in my voice.
“It’s so obvious you have feelings for her. I’ve seen you with her twice now, and you’re so happy around her.”
“I don’t know, I feel like I’m a happy guy in general.” I try to defend myself.
“You are, but this is different,” Gwen says.
“You look lovesick, son.” My father laughs.
“The hell I do.” I slap my hand down hard on the countertop. “And thank you all for the advice, but I’m not some twenty-year-old inexperienced and love-struck kid.”
“Why are you so defensive, Dad?” Gwen asks with a giggle.
A growl of frustration breaks free of my throat. “Why are you three giving me such a hard time about Maeve? It’s not like we can be together, even if we wanted to. She’s my employee.”
“You’re the owner of the team. Can’t you make the rules?” Gwen asks.
“I’m also supposed to lead by example.”
“May I ask you something, son?” my mother calmly requests.
I send her a knowing glance. “If I say no, will it really matter?”
She laughs. “Not likely.”
“Then let me have it,” I concede.
“Maeve told me the two of you met before she knew you would be her boss, but she didn’t tell me the details. Did the two of you date?”
I can’t get into the details of how we met in front of my thirteen-year-old daughter.
“Yes, but we only went out a few times.”
“And that was enough to develop feelings for her?” Mom continues.
“Yes. I was about to propose that we date regularly when I found out she works for me.”
Gwen gives me a sympathetic look. “Oh man, that’s a rough one, Dad.”
“Since the two of you met before she was your assistant, I don’t see a problem with you being in a relationship—provided it doesn’t interfere with either of you doing your jobs well,” Dad offers.
“Really?” I ask, trying to suppress my hope, but it’s impossible.
My father’s opinion on this matter carries more weight than anyone else’s—except maybe Gwen. I don’t want her to think poorly of my actions.
“Yes. You don’t need to announce that you’re dating each other. Just let it evolve naturally. People will figure it out on their own. Or if you’d feel better about getting it out in the open from the get-go, you could share the news. Informing HR either way would be a good idea.”
“I don’t think Maeve will want anyone to know. At least not at first.” My gaze moves over to Gwen. “How do you feel about Maeve and I dating?”
She points to her beaming smile. “What do you think?”
“Are you sure? It’s only been you and me until now. You’ve never had to share our time with anyone before.”
“Maeve is awesome, Dad. And she’s too hot for you, so you better grab her while she’s interested.”
“She is awesome,” I agree. “And this time, I don’t plan on letting her get away.”
My family cheers, and their support fires me up. I want to drive straight to Maeve’s house and drag her home with me.
But one of the benefits of being older is having more patience. I also know it never hurts to take some time to think about things before acting on them.
Maeve might need some convincing, so I’ll need to bring my A-game. But more than anything, I need to be honest and maybe even bare my soul to her. It won’t be easy, but she’s worth whatever it takes.
* * *
Sixteen... Sixteen… Sixteen…
Sixteen steps is the number of steps it takes me to get from one side of my office to the other. I know this because I’ve been continually pacing and counting my steps since I arrived thirty minutes ago. I even had to crank the air conditioning and roll up my sleeves to keep from working up a sweat. I honestly don’t remember the last time I was this nervous.
Last night as I lay in bed, I worked out everything I wanted to say to Maeve this morning. But now the time is fast approaching, and the words are tangled up in my head like last year’s Christmas lights. And no amount of pacing seems to help.
I need to settle down and get my brain to cooperate before she arrives.
I drop down into my chair with a frustrated sigh. I’m not sure how she’s going to react to what I have to say, and at the same time, I can’t wait to say it. Fuck.
As a business owner, I’ve given many talks about real estate in front of large crowds and never suffered from a bout of debilitating nerves. But thinking about baring my soul to my golden goddess, is currently making my stomach turn and my knees weak.
Then again, my happiness has never before felt like it hinged on the outcome of a single conversation. It feels like Maeve literally controls our future. If she doesn’t agree to give us another chance and can’t be persuaded to, I’m fucked.
And not in the way I want to be.
I hear a knock on my door, and I’m sure it’s Maeve. I left something on her desk, knowing she’d need to ask me about it.
“Come in.”
She steps inside and closes the door. “Did you get this for me?” She walks toward me, holding up a white coffee mug that has a red dragon painted on it.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to remind you of how much fun we had that night at the art studio, and I thought it looked a hell of a lot better than the dragon I painted.”
She smiles at me. “Thank you. And you’re right; it’s one million times better than your dragon.” She laughs and tips her head toward the door. “I better get to work.”
“Hey, while I have you here, can we talk about some things?” Rising, I make my way around the desk.
She nods. “Sure.”
“Let’s sit on the couch. It’ll be more comfortable.” We also won’t have a desk between us.
We settle side by side, and she places her mug on the coffee table.
“Did you want to talk about the retirement celebration?” she asks.
“No.” I nervously tug on my earlobe. “I want to talk about us.”
“Us?” Her brow furrows. “Am I getting fired?”
“No! Fuck no. Why would you think that?”
“You look so somber, like something’s on your mind. I just assumed you weren’t happy with our situation.”
“You’re right, something is on my mind. And I’m not happy with our situation. I’d like to make a change, and I’m hoping you’ll agree with what I have in mind.”
Her brow furrows even more. “Okay.”
“I want to be in a relationship with you,” I awkwardly blurt out.
Not as smooth as I was hoping for, but there it is.
“But we can’t,” she whispers.
“I know you’re my employee, and it might not seem like the ideal situation for us to be together, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t have deeper feelings for you. I’m tired of not being able to touch you whenever I want. I’m tired of not kissing you. And most of all, I’m fucking tired of depriving myself of your company when you’re all I think about every moment I’m awake. And even when I’m asleep, my dreams are about you.” Pausing, I run my fingers through my hair.
“I don’t understand what’s changed. You’re still my boss,” she says. “It’s still taboo for us to be together. Last night on my drive home I made the decision to finally accept that we’ll never be more than an employee and her boss. And now you’re telling me you want to be more.” She throws her hands up. “I can’t keep doing this. It’s not healthy to waffle back and forth like we’ve been doing. We need to be strong and put an end to all the line crossing.”
“No, we need to do the opposite.” I take hold of her hand, clasping it between mine. “Last night, my parents asked me about us. They could tell I’m crazy about you.”
“You are?” she whispers.
“Yes, can’t you tell?”
“I hoped you felt something for me. But it doesn’t matter. I finally made up my mind that I’m only your employee.”
“And there’s nothing I can say or do to change your mind?” I ask, releasing hold of her hand.
Her front teeth dig into her bottom lip, and she shakes her head.
“I guess you leave me no choice, then.” Cupping the nape of her neck, I fasten my lips to hers. My tongue makes a deep dive, caressing the sinuous length of hers. All the stress and worry melts away and it’s just the two of us. Nothing has ever felt so right. Her hands clutch my shoulders, pulling me closer, and when our mouths finally part, she dazedly stares at me.
My hands cradle her face as I peer into her beguiling eyes. “You stole a piece of my heart the first night we met, and every minute we spend together you steal a little more. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I’m done trying to convince myself we can’t be together.”
“But what about it being professionally unethical?” she asks.
My thumbs whisk back and forth over her cheeks. “We were involved before you worked for me. I didn’t take advantage of you being my employee.”
She grips my wrists. “We know that, but no one else does. There’ll be a lot of office gossip about us. How long before someone asks you about it in an interview?”
“I don’t care what anyone else says or thinks. You and I are what matters. We’ve been stuck in some limbo stage where we’re more than employees but can’t be in a relationship. I’m done fighting how I feel about you. It’s an impossible battle.”
Her fingertips caress my forearms. “I don’t want to fight how I feel anymore either. It’s too painful. But how are we going to handle this?”
“We don’t have to throw our relationship in people’s faces. We can be professional at work and be together the rest of the time.”
She nods. “At some point everyone will find out.”
My hands slide from her cheeks to her neck and then com to rest on her shoulders. “Yes, but we’ll control the when and the how.”
Her mouth parts in a stunning smile. “Are we really doing this?”
“Fuck yes. We’re really doing this.” I lean in, pressing my mouth to hers, and it’s the most right thing I’ve ever felt. One kiss turns into two then three as our lips and tongues get reacquainted.
When I finally draw back, Maeve smiles at me. “God, I’ve missed kissing you.”
“Now you won’t have to.” I point to my mouth. “These lips are yours anytime you want them.”
She grabs her mug from the table. “I guess we should get to work now, huh, boss?”
I stand and pull her up next to me. “Unfortunately, yes. We have a party to plan. The sooner we knock that out, the better.”
“I’m gonna try out my new cup, and then we can buckle down. Do you want a coffee?” she asks.
“I do. I’ll meet you in the break room.”
She leaves first while I retrieve my mug from my desk. As I wander down the hall, a grin takes over my face. I feel like I could conquer anything right now. It’s a good thing I don’t pass by anyone else.
Maeve is alone and washing out her dragon mug in the sink. I head over to the coffeemaker and get my coffee brewing, then turn around, leaning back against the counter. She wanders over and stands in front of me. Plucking her mug from her hand, I place it on the counter next to me. I give a cursory glance toward the doorway before I tug Maeve to me and slam my lips onto hers. I know we shouldn’t be doing this. I know this is unprofessional and a bad example for others. But I don’t give a fuck. All I can think of is her sweet taste and how soft and pliant her lips are yielding to mine. My hands cup her ass, squeezing two handfuls of perfection, and I never want to let go.
We kiss for longer than we should, until Maeve pushes on my chest. “Trey, we can’t do this.”
My hands fall from her ass, and she steps back from me. I turn toward the counter and adjust my dick before I grab my coffee. When I pivot back to face her, I clear my throat and say, “I’ll see you in my office, Miss O’Rourke.”
“Yes, sir.” She smirks.
I retrace my steps and sit behind my desk, sipping my coffee. I shouldn’t have kissed her in a public work area. Anyone could’ve seen us, and we’re lucky they didn’t. I need to exercise restraint if we’re going to keep this quiet for now. But that’s easier said than done when it comes to Maeve.