7. Kim
The office was blissfully normal.
That was the one good thing about our arrangement. We'd agreed to keep it out of the workplace. Here, I was just his secretary. Nothing more. At least, that was the theory.
In practice, I couldn't stop thinking about it.
The kiss.
It sounded like something forbidden to me. Which it was. I had no business kissing my boss like that. Well, he kissed me. I just… responded.
Liar. You enjoyed it. Fine, I did. But who wouldn’t? Xavier was clearly a very experienced kisser. He did things with his tongue that I never thought were possible.
Cole had never kissed me like that. Not once in the two years we were together. Cole's kisses had been perfunctory, a means to an end, something to get through on the way to what he really wanted.
Xavier had kissed me like the kiss itself was the point.
His hands had held me properly, one at my waist, one at the back of my neck, positioning me exactly where he wanted me. I could tell from the way his fingers had played against my back that he was skilled. Experienced. That he knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what effect it was having.
I wondered how it would feel if those hands wandered further. If they slipped beneath the fabric of my dress, traced the curve of my spine, pulled me closer until there was no space left between us—
Heat crept up my neck.
I glanced through the glass wall at Xavier's office. He was at his desk, frowning at his laptop. Those sinful fingers gripped a very lucky pen, which tapped against his equally sinful lips. He was completely oblivious to the fact that I'd just been mentally undressing him.
This was a problem.
I forced my attention back to my computer screen. The quarterly reports needed formatting. The calendar needed updating. I had actual work to do, work that did not involve fantasizing about my boss's mouth or his hands or the way he tasted like wine and need.
Every time my mind drifted toward dangerous territory, I yanked it back. Spreadsheets. Emails. Phone calls. Safe, boring, professional tasks that had nothing to do with Xavier Dubois and his unfairly talented lips.
At five o'clock, I gathered my things.
Before I left, I stopped by Xavier's office. He looked up when I appeared in his doorway.
"Heading out?" he asked.
"Yes." I reached into my bag and pulled out the velvet box. Set it on his desk. "I wanted to return this."
Xavier stared at the box, then at me. "It was a gift."
"It was just a show."
"Kim—"
"The terms of our contract are clear. You're paying me a hundred thousand dollars to pretend to be your girlfriend for three months. Anything beyond that is..." I searched for the right word. "Unnecessary."
"It's a necklace, not a bribe."
"I know. But I'd feel better if you kept it."
He studied me for a long moment. I couldn't read his expression. Finally, he reached out and took the box, his fingers brushing mine briefly. "Fine," he said quietly. "But for the record, I bought it for you. Not for the arrangement."
I didn't know what to say to that. So I just nodded and left, my skin still tingling where he'd touched me.
Dani had already picked up Zoe from school. My car was parked in its usual spot, finally repaired thanks to the fifty thousand dollars currently sitting in my bank account. Half of Xavier's payment was delivered the day after I signed the contract.
It still felt surreal. More money than I'd ever had at one time. Enough to fix the car, pay off the past-due bills, and put a real cushion in my savings account. All I had to do was pretend to love a man I was trying very hard not to actually like.
I picked up Zoe from Dani's apartment. We spent the evening together—dinner, homework, bath time, stories. The comfortable routine that kept us both grounded. I soaked in every moment with her, storing them up like provisions for a long winter.
Then I had to take her back to Dani's for the night. My bar shift started at ten, and I wouldn't be home until three.
"Be good," I told her, kissing her forehead. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Love you, Mommy."
"Love you more."
Dani gave me a look as I handed over Zoe's overnight bag. "You okay? You seem distracted."
"Long day."
"Mmhmm." She nodded in sympathy. "One day at a time, girl."
The bar was busy for a Monday. A few regulars at their usual spots, a birthday party in the back corner, the steady stream of people looking to shake off the workday with a drink or three. I tied on my apron and got to work.
Pour. Serve. Smile. Repeat.
Around eleven, I caught myself thinking about Xavier again. His hands. His mouth. What did that even mean? Why would he buy me jewelry if not for show? Why would he…
The door swung open. I looked up automatically, ready to greet whoever was stumbling in for a late-night drink.
My stomach dropped.
Xavier walked through the door. Behind him came the mullet guy, the friend from before, and one other man I vaguely recognized from that first night. Chuck was visibly absent.
And on Xavier's arm was a beautiful woman with shiny red hair. She was wearing a black dress that barely covered anything, her body pressed against his side, her laugh carrying across the bar as she said something into his ear.
So, the contract meant nothing to him. He could still do whatever he wanted. And here I thought he was actually taking this seriously. How typical of him.
I turned away. Started wiping down the bar with more force than necessary. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. We had an arrangement, not a relationship. He was free to see whoever he wanted.
And free to bring other women to my bar on my shift, apparently.
The group settled into a booth near the back. I heard more laughter, the redhead's high and musical, Xavier's lower rumble beneath it.
I didn't look over. Focused on my work. Took orders from other customers, mixed drinks, and collected tips. Professional. Detached.
"Kim." Hector appeared at my elbow. "Booth seven needs service. Big spenders, by the look of them."
Of course, they were.
I grabbed my notepad and walked over, keeping my expression neutral. Blank. The face I wore when I didn't want anyone to know what I was feeling.
"What can I get you?"
Xavier looked up. His eyes widened slightly when he registered who was standing in front of him. Then his expression shifted into something I couldn't read.
"Kim." He said my name like a question.
"Mr. Dubois." I kept my voice flat. "What would you like to drink?"
The redhead frowned, looking between us. "You two know each other?"
"She works for me," Xavier said. His eyes hadn't left my face. "She’s uh…” he scratched the back of his neck. “My secretary.”
Glad to see I was back to being just his secretary.
"Oh." Her frown deepened, then smoothed into disinterest. "Well, I'll have a cosmopolitan. Extra cranberry."
I wrote it down. Took the others' orders. Didn't look at Xavier.
"I'll have whatever you recommend," he said when I finally had to acknowledge him.
"Water," I said. "You're driving."
He had the gall to look amused. I had to suppress the urge to wipe that grin off his face. "Water it is."
I retreated to the bar and made their drinks. When I delivered them, I set Xavier's water down last, a little harder than necessary.
The next hour was torture. I felt his eyes on me constantly, tracking me across the bar, watching me serve other customers. The redhead kept leaning into him, touching his arm. He whispered things that made her giggle.
I kept my face blank. Kept working. Kept pretending I didn't care.
Around midnight, the group started gathering their things. I watched from behind the bar as they headed for the door, the redhead still hanging onto Xavier's arm.
Then Xavier stopped. Said something to mullet-guy. Mullet-guy nodded, took the redhead's elbow, and guided her toward the exit while she protested. Xavier turned and walked back to the bar.
"What are you doing?" I hissed.
"Sending her home." He nodded toward the door, where mullet-guy was now steering a confused redhead into the night. "She'll survive."
"You can't just…"
"I want to talk to you." He settled onto a barstool like he planned to stay awhile. "When does your shift end?"
"That's none of your business."
"Kim." His voice softened. "Please."
I stared at him. He stared back. Those green eyes saw too much. I didn’t like that.
"Two," I said finally. "My shift ends at two."
"I'll wait."
He did wait. For two hours, he sat at that barstool, nursing the water I'd given him, watching me work. He didn't try to talk to me, didn't demand my attention, just... waited. When two o'clock came, and Hector waved me off, Xavier was still there.
"I'll walk you out," he said.
We stepped into the cold February night. The street was empty, quiet, the kind of stillness that only existed in the hours between very late and very early.
"You should quit," Xavier said.
I stopped walking. "Excuse me?"
"The bar." He turned to face me. "You shouldn't have to work two jobs. I can increase your compensation. Cover whatever you'd lose here."
"No."
"Kim—"
"I said no." My voice came out sharper than I intended. "This job is mine. It has nothing to do with you or our arrangement. I'm not giving it up."
He was quiet for a moment. "Let me drive you home, at least. It's late."
"My car is here."
"Leave it. I'll bring you back tomorrow to pick it up."
I should argue. Should insist I didn't need his help, didn't need his concern, didn't need anything from him except the money he'd promised.
But I was exhausted. Bone-deep tired in a way that made the thought of driving home feel impossible.
"Fine," I said.
The drive was quiet. Xavier kept his eyes on the road, and I kept mine on the window. When we pulled up to my building, neither of us moved.
"Thank you," I said. "For the ride."
"Kim." He turned to face me. "I'm sorry about tonight. I didn't know we were coming to this bar. If I'd known…”
"It doesn't matter." I cut him off. "We have an arrangement. What you do outside of that is your business."
"Is it?"