Page 20 of Maid for My Billionaire Boss
Her eyes bounced around my face, making me wonder if she could tell how much I was withholding. Luckily, I prided myself on being a champion at staring contests and I held my gaze steady.
“Do you need me to go on another dinner?” she asked.
I chin nodded my way through the words. “Something like that, sure.”
Her inquiring eyes washed over my face again, like she was searching for clues. “It is, or it isn’t?”
“It is,” I said firmly.
Her eyes narrowed. “Then why are your eyes so shifty?”
“They aren’t shifty.” I willed my eyes to freeze in place. “They are sensitive.”
Her tiny nostrils flared slightly as she drew in a loud breath, and in a voice that seemed to hold more amusement than annoyance, she said, “I’m not going to be your work wife, if that’s what you think. This has got to stop.”
“One more time.”
“I don’t even know what you’re asking.”
Right. She needed details.
In a rush, I blew through the specifics, hoping she wouldn’t get a chance to actually hear any of it. “We fly to an Indonesian mangrove swamp, and we paddle a canoe upriver where we’ll camp in a cozy hut. Fly home the next day.” I felt it was wise to leave out the part about the famous disappearance of that Rockefeller guy and a sprinkling of archeologists. Pfft. Minor details she didn’t need to know.
That she can read about on the internet!
Note to self: send a disabling virus to all her internet devices.Today.
Atalie’s eyes grew freakishly large. “Ah, that’s a hard no! When I said I would work hard for you in my job application, I didn’t mean I woulddiefor you.”
Okay, maybe she wasn’t going to be so easy to convince. I decided to take a different approach. “How about a raise?”
“You couldn’t pay me enough.” Her words came out broken through a sarcastic chuckle.
“A year off . . . paid?”
“Deal. I’ll start today.” She pushed a flattened palm just inches in front of my chest and ducked to the left like she was going to leave. I used this perfect right-angled gift to my advantage and took yet another step closer. I was so close; I could smell her skin—it was sweet.
Like honey. Maybe a touch of tropical.
Man, she smelled amazing.
A little enchanted.
Stop! Don’t get distracted.
To stop my scrolling thoughts, I blurted out, “It’s only one night there.”
“Yeah,” she continued in her skeptical tone, “how long does it take to get there?”
“A day or so.” I downplayed the details by tossing up a shoulder and casually gesturing forward. “Consider it a long weekend.”
“I’m not a criminologist, but I’m pretty sure that’s what human traffickers say.”
I’ll give her that one. That was a pretty good comeback. “I already said you would go. If I go back on my word now, that makes me a liar.”
“That sort of sounds like asking first.”
“I figured you’d enjoy getting out of the house for a few days.”
