And so begins Nate and Jules' love story...
Chapter
One
Late Spring
I love my job. I love my
job. God, sometimes, I hate my job. I read the terse email from my boss, Nathan
McKenna once again and swallow hard.
Friday,
April 26, 2013 13:56
From:
Nathan McKenna
To:
Julianne Montgomery
Subject: Working Late
Julianne,
I
need you to work late with me tonight, possibly into the weekend. Please gather all the files on the Radcliffe
account and meet me in my office at 6:00 pm.
Nate
Damn it! For eight long months I’ve managed to steer
clear of my boss, and I know I’ve been incredibly lucky that I haven’t had to
work alone with him after-hours, but we recently lost the other junior partner
in our department, and that leaves just me and Nate.
Large,
beastly butterflies have taken up residence in my stomach.
Since
that one night last summer, Nate and I have maintained a level of
professionalism that I’m very proud of, despite the fact that whenever I see
him I feel a pull of electricity that makes my thighs clench. I did invite him to double-date with Nat and
I on the night of one of Nat’s husband, Luke’s movie premieres, but I managed
to keep that night completely platonic.
It
almost killed me.
Since
then, it’s been for the greater good of keeping a job that I enjoy that I steer
clear of Mr. Sex-on-legs.
Not
that he’s been clamoring to get me back into bed. The morning after The Best Sex In The History of Mankind, after I snuck out of his
bed, he had been pissed. He’d called and
texted, wanting to know what the hell happened, and I’d avoided him like the
plague for a good two weeks, telecommuting from home and taking vacation time.
Then,
he just stopped. All personal
communication halted, and when we are together during business hours, he is the
epitome of cool professionalism.
There
are days that it pisses me the hell off.
And
now, because the moron who had been in our department couldn’t take the
demanding schedule of our job quit, I have to work alone with Nate.
Fuck.
I
sit back in my chair and look at the time.
Five thirty. I pull my glasses
off and toss them on my desk and hang my head in my hands. So much
for spending the weekend with a pint of ice cream and a good book.
I
can do this. Pull it together, Montgomery. I’ve
posed naked in magazines. I’ve had
dinner with gazillionares and hung out with movie stars. I have four older brothers who tease me
incessantly, and taught me how to kick ass.
I
can handle the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life for a few hours without
ripping my clothes off and having my wicked way with him.
I
think.
Probably.
I
pull myself together, check that all my calls and emails are set to forward to
my iPhone, and go to the bathroom to prepare myself for this evening.
I’m
happy with what I see in the mirror. My
long light blonde hair is still holding the loose curls I rolled into it this
morning. My makeup is subtle and
professional, setting off my blue eyes.
I smooth on a fresh coat of nude lip gloss, straighten my simple
cranberry-colored dress and skim my eyes over my slender figure. I was blessed with excellent genetics. I’m not as sexily curved as Natalie, but I
was blessed with decent boobs, a perky ass, and a figure that got me onto the
pages of Playboy magazine. Three
times. I work out hard to maintain my
shape.
Content
with my reflection, I walk briskly in my black Louboutins to my office, gather
the files Nate requested along with my phone and walk down the corridor to his
office. His personal assistant, Mrs.
Glover, is sitting at her desk. She’s an
older woman with grey hair and shrewd brown eyes. Her smile is deceiving. She scares the hell out of me with her sharp
efficiency and her crazy ability to anticipate Nate’s every move.
“Hello,
Ms. Montgomery, you can go on in.”
“Thank
you.” I nod at her and smile and head for his office, knocking twice and then
opening the door.
“Come
in, Julianne. Thanks for staying.” Nate looks up from his computer and nods, his
face completely blank.
“Sure.”
Nate’s office is vast, with large-scale,
dark office furniture. The chairs
sitting in front of his desk are plush, black leather. There are shelves from the floor to ceiling
with hundreds of books and files, meticulously in order, no doubt by the efficient
Mrs. Glover. Behind his desk are large
windows with a view of the Space Needle and the Sound.
It’s
beautiful.
I’m
not sure Nate even pays attention to it.
I
perch at the edge of one of the black chairs and set the files on Nate’s desk,
expecting him to get right to the point.
“How
are you?” he asks, his voice soft.
“Um…
fine, thank you.” What the hell?
“I’m
sorry about the short notice.” He leans
forward and braces his elbows on his desk, lacing his fingers, and keeps steady
eye-contact. God, those gray eyes are
distracting. Almost as distracting as
his hands, and the delicious way he…
Enough.
“It’s
part of the job.” I open a file and try
to pretend that my cheeks aren’t flushed.
“So, what’s up with this account?”
“How
are Natalie and Luke?”
“They’re
fine.” I sit back in the chair now and
eye him speculatively. Why are we having
a personal conversation? “Natalie is due in just a few weeks.”
“That’s
great, good for them.” Nate grins, that
elusive, sexy, melt my panties grin and I find myself returning it. His hair is pulled back off his face, as
usual. His chiseled jaw is freshly
shaved, and he’s wearing a black suit with a black shirt and blue tie. He never takes his jacket off to roll up the
sleeves, and I briefly wonder why, then remind myself to get back to the
conversation at hand.
“Yeah,
they’re excited. I’m hosting the baby
shower next weekend.”
“I
promise not to make you work next weekend,” he winks at me and I about fall out
of my chair.
Who
is this man, and what has he done with my boss?
“So,
about the account?” I ask as Mrs. Glover knocks on the door.
“Dinner’s
here, sir.”
“Thank
you, Jenny, bring it in.” Nate rises and
takes two large bags out of Mrs. Glover’s hands. “That’s all for today. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Have
a good weekend, sir. Ms.
Montgomery.” She nods to both of us and
then exits the office, closing the door behind her.
“I
had Chinese delivered. I got you your
usual.” He smiles and resumes sitting in
his chair, unloading bags. He seems very
happy with himself this evening, much more approachable and friendly than he
has been since last summer.
What’s his game?
“Thank
you,” I reply, realizing that I’m starving.
I load a plate with rice, sweet and sour chicken and egg rolls and we
dig in, eating in silence for a few minutes.
I feel Nate’s eyes on me, so I decide to put my big girl panties on and
just take the initiative.
“So,
what’s up with this account?” I ask again and take a bite of chicken.
“I
don’t have any idea, I just wanted to have dinner with you, and this is the
only way I can see you.”
Holy fucking shit.
I
stop chewing, my eyes wide, and I just stare at his perfectly sincere
face. “Excuse me?”
“You
heard me.”
I
frown and set my plate carefully on his desk.
“So, we’re not working on this account?”
“No.”
“I
don’t understand.”
Nate
lays his chopsticks down, wipes his mouth with a napkin and sits back in his
chair, watching me carefully.
“I
just wanted to share dinner with you, Julianne.”
“Why?”
And why does he insist on calling me
Julianne?
He
frowns again. “Do I have to spell it
out?”
“I
guess so.”
“I
like you. I enjoy your company.” He shrugs, looking lost and a bit
insecure. I’m so not used to seeing
emotions on his beautiful face.
“But
you’re my boss.”
“So?”
“So,
we could both be fired.”
“It’s
just dinner, Julianne.”
“You’re
not looking at me like you just want dinner, Nate.”
He
cocks his head to the side and a smile kisses his lips. “How am I looking at you?”
“Like
you’d like to fuck me on this desk.” Holy. Fuck!
Did I just say that?
Nate’s
smile disappears and his eyes narrow.
“Watch your mouth.”
I
swallow hard and blink rapidly.
“There
are many places that I’d enjoy fucking you, including this desk, but right now,
I simply want to enjoy a meal with you.”
“Watch
your mouth.” I whisper and his smile is back.
“Telling
your boss what to do?”
“Somehow,
I don’t think we’re having this conversation in a boss/employee context.” I shake my head and stare at the man before
me. “What is this? Why now?”
“Eat.”
“I’m
suddenly no longer hungry, thanks.”
“Just
humor me, Julianne.”
“Why
do you call me Julianne?” I ask and pick up another piece of sticky chicken.
“It’s
your name.” His eyes are on my mouth and
I smile to myself as I grab an egg roll and bite off the end.
“Everyone
calls me Jules.”
“Not
me.”
“Why?”
I ask again.
“Because
Julianne suits you.” He shrugs and takes
a bite of his food.
“But
I prefer Jules.”
“Okay,
Julianne.” He winks at me, and grins
broadly before taking another bite of food.
“I’ll
bet when you were small your teacher sent home a letter to your parents saying,
‘Doesn’t play well with others.’”
Nate
laughs, and my gut clenches. “Probably.”
I
realize I’ve cleaned my plate and I throw it in the trash and bag the left
overs. “Okay, I ate. Thanks for dinner.
Have a good weekend.” I rise to walk out
the door, but Nate leaps up and stops me.
“Don’t
go yet.”
“Why
not?”
He
licks his lips, shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his
heels. “Stay with me this weekend. At my place.”
I
think I’ve entered an alternate universe.
Or I’m on Punked. Yes, that’s
it. Punked. I start looking around the room, behind me,
up in the corners of the room.
“What
are you looking for?” he asks as he
follows my gaze.
“The
cameras.”
“What
cameras?”
“I
have to either be on Punked or I’m being set up to be fired.”
Nate
laughs, a low chuckle that tickles my insides.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because,
you’ve shown no signs of attraction toward me in months, which is fine with me,
and if I stay with you this weekend, we could both lose our jobs.”
His
smile is gone, and his wide gray eyes go glacial. “Number one, I don’t give a fuck about the no
frat policy here. Any relationship I
choose to have, in any capacity I choose to have it, is none of their
business. And number two…”
He
grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulls me to him, slides his
lips over mine, softly kissing me, persuading my lips open and I’m reminded
just how well this man can kiss.
He
must have taken classes in this at some point.
I
melt against him and brace my hands on his narrow hips. His fingers weave
through my hair and as this kiss goes on and on, my body relaxes against him in
relief that he still finds me attractive, and in pure unadulterated lust.
“I
definitely find you attractive, baby.”
He whispers the words against my forehead and plants a soft kiss
there.
He
caresses my cheek with the backs of his fingers and his gray eyes have
softened. “So, what do you say? Spend the weekend with me?”