Bidding on Her Boss Read online

  Eight

  Dylan knocked on the door of Faith’s ground-floor apartment and stepped back to wait. It had been almost a month since the night she’d stayed at his place. The night that had rocked him to his core. In that time, they’d seen each other at Liam’s research lab and in meetings about the launch, but, as agreed, they hadn’t spent any time alone together. And every day it had been a little more difficult than the day before to keep himself from calling her.

  But that third date had been weighing on his mind. It was a loose end that needed clearing up, and it was time he did just that. The closure would help him move forward. Maybe he was grasping at straws, but nothing else had worked so far to help him forget her and move on.

  The apartment door opened to reveal Faith in shorts and a T-shirt, her face makeup-free and her curling hair loose around her shoulders. She stole his breath.

  “Dylan,” she said, her voice betraying her surprise.

  “Sorry for the unannounced visit.” He smiled and dug his hands into his pockets. “Do you mind if I come in for a couple of minutes?”

  She blinked and then opened the door wider. “Sure.”

  Once inside, he turned to take in the decor. Or lack of decor. The place was beyond minimalist—it was practically bare. There was an old sofa, a coffee table and a TV. The coffee table had a small pile of floristry magazines sitting haphazardly on it, and an empty mug. No bright cushions on the sofa, no colorful paintings on the walls. No collections of eccentric odds and ends, no surprises at all. It was like the anti-Faith apartment.

  There was a kitchen beside the living room, with a counter acting as a divider between the rooms. Except for a chrome toaster and a mismatched wooden knife block, the kitchen counters were bare, echoing the interior design of the living room. He’d expected flair. Color. Personality. Faith.

  “Can I get you a drink?” she asked, her features schooled to blank.

  He shook his head and brought his attention back to the reason he’d come. “No, I won’t be here long.”

  “Even so, maybe we should have this conversation outside.” She headed out through the door she’d opened for him and stood in the small courtyard at the front of the apartment block. There were a few dry-looking shrubs enclosing a paved square that was heavily shaded by the building, and it looked about as wrong for her as the interior did.

  “Is there a problem with the launch?” she asked, crossing her arms under her breasts.

  The launch was only a week away and plans were in full swing, but it was running as smoothly as could be expected. But it was connected to why he’d knocked on her door this morning.

  He cleared his throat. “We need to talk about the auction and our last date.”

  He’d wanted to bring it up again for a while now, but it didn’t seem right to talk about it when they were at work. Where he was the boss and she was his employee. Those roles didn’t disappear simply by talking to her here, obviously, but at least by discussing the situation when they were on her turf, it felt a little more equal.

  She snapped off a leaf from a nearby shrub and crumpled it in her fingers. “I’ve told you we can let that slide. I’ve already got more than I expected from the auction with this assignment working with the Ruby Iris.”

  That sounded fine in theory, but he needed the closure, so he ignored her objection. “And I’ve told you that I won’t let it slide. You paid to have me look more closely at your floristry skills and I did, but I want to make sure you’ve had the opportunity to say all you need to about where you see yourself in the company.” He offered her a smile. “Since we’re both going to the launch anyway, I thought we could go together and it could serve as our final date.”

  She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “I seem to remember we decided to keep our distance. To go cold turkey. In fact, those rules pretty much exclude you even being here today.”

  “It’s been almost a month without incident. I think we’re fine.” Well, she seemed fine, anyway. He was still kept awake at night, replaying memories of their night together. Of the feel of her skin, the touch of her lips as she kissed him in desperation.

  She, however, seemed unaffected, which was more than a little annoying.

  “So how would you see this working?” she asked, sounding unconvinced.

  “I’ll pick you up, like a date. We’ve never had any problems being alone in a car together, so that should be fine. Then we’ll attend the launch together. Perhaps dance, but since we’ll be in public, surrounded by Hawke’s Blooms staff and management, there won’t be any chance to get carried away. Then I’ll drop you home.”

  “That last point sounds like a danger area,” she said as she ran her hands over a branch near her shoulder.

  “Good point.” In theory, it would only be the same level of temptation that they had right now, but on the night of the launch, they’d both be wearing their finest, would have danced, perhaps would have had a glass or two of champagne. “I’ll arrange a limo to drop you home. It will be on standby so you can leave when you want to. Alone.”

  She screwed up her nose as she considered. “Okay, that sounds harmless enough. And then we’ll be square?”

  “Then we’ll be square,” he confirmed. Of course, he was going to reimburse her the money she’d paid for the dates as soon as they’d had the last one, despite her earlier protests. Eight thousand two hundred dollars was a lot of money for someone on her wage.

  And speaking of money, there was one other aspect of this last date that needed addressing. “Also, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me buy you a dress for the launch.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t have to buy me a dress, Dylan.”

  He’d expected opposition, so it didn’t faze him. He rocked back on his heels and laid out his reasoning. “You admitted that you spent almost all your savings at the auction, so yes, I do. Will it help if I promise not to buy you a corsage?”

  “Dylan—” she began, but he interrupted.

  “Humor me. Let me buy you a dress, we’ll have the date, and then we can properly go back to being a boss and an employee.”

  “You want to take me shopping?” She arched an eyebrow. “Alone?”

  Alone would be crazy. Luckily, he’d already come up with a solution. “I’ve arranged a personal shopper who will take us to a store after closing time. We’ll not only have private access to the store and advice but also be chaperoned.”

  She didn’t say anything, but he wanted this closure, so he smiled and said, “Just say yes, Faith.”

  She blew out a breath. “Okay, sure.”

  Good. Part of him was glad he’d been able to get her to agree. After this he’d be able to move on. Another part of him was wondering if he’d stepped out of the frying pan into the fire.

  * * *

  Faith pulled up in the parking lot of the upscale clothing store and let out a sigh. She was looking forward to spending time with Dylan far more than she should, and that worried her.

  Pretending to be unaffected by him in her apartment had almost cost her her sanity. If he hadn’t promised to have a personal shopper here tonight, she would never have agreed. Though he’d seemed remarkably unaffected when he’d made the offer, which was hardly fair. If she was struggling, then it would boost her ego if he’d been struggling right along with her.

  Perhaps he’d moved on already? Her stomach dipped at the thought, but it would be for the best. Yes, indeed. It was exactly what they needed to happen. If only it didn’t feel like the end of the world to contemplate...

  His Porsche pulled up beside her. Dylan stepped out and paused to set the keyless lock. He wore jeans and a white polo shirt—it was the only time she’d seen him in jeans besides the morning after they’d made love. She gripped the steering wheel tighter. The memory threatened to overwhelm her wit
h sensation, so she pushed it to the back of her mind and focused on the here and now. However, the fact that the here and now consisted of Dylan’s rear end outlined by soft denim wasn’t helping her gain control much.

  “Evening, Faith,” he said as he opened her car door. The deep, sexy drawl sent a shiver up her spine. She stepped out and Dylan closed the door.

  “Hello, Dylan,” she said. Then, before she could give herself away, she smiled and locked her car. “Is the personal shopper here already or do we need to wait?”

  “She’s inside.”

  “Let’s not keep her waiting, then,” she said and set off for the entrance.

  Dylan was beside her in two strides. “You know, you seem a lot more keen about this than I expected.”

  Actually, she was keen to have another person in the mix and avoid being alone with him, especially in a dimly lit parking lot. If he’d moved on, she wasn’t letting him know she was still back where she’d been the night they’d made love. She straightened her spine.

  “The sooner we start, the sooner it will be over,” she said over her shoulder.

  A middle-aged woman wearing a designer pantsuit, her hair in a sleek silver bob, opened the door for them. “Dylan and Faith?” she asked.

  “That’s us,” Dylan said, holding out his hand.

  “I’m Julie.” She shook Dylan’s hand and then held her hand out to Faith. “As I understand it, we’re looking for an outfit for Faith to wear to an event?”

  “Yes,” Faith said. “So, something formal.”

  “Lovely. The formal section is this way.” She moved away, and Faith turned to Dylan.

  “You don’t need to hang around,” she said brightly. “Or if you want to stay, you could wait over by the doors? You’ll get bored looking at women’s clothes.” The last thing she wanted was to be trying on clothes with him within touching distance.

  He grinned. “Not a chance. I’m staying to make sure you don’t weasel out.”

  “What if I promise—”

  Dylan cut her off. “I’m staying, Faith, so you may as well catch up with Julie.”

  “Sure,” she said on a sigh. She’d come to learn a thing or two about this man, and she could tell this wasn’t a battle she was going to win. She followed the path Julie had taken to the formal wear section, very aware of Dylan’s gaze on her as he tagged along.

  Once they arrived, Julie made a sweeping gesture with her arm to point out the options. “Did you have anything in mind? Some guidelines so I know where to start?”

  Faith chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to come up with some ideas. She’d been too worried about being here with Dylan to think about the actual dress.

  “Something bright,” Dylan said. “Vibrant.”

  “Okay, good.” Julie nodded. “Anything else?”

  Dylan rocked back on his heels. “Perhaps something quirky. She looks great in halter necks, but then, she looks great in everything, so that shouldn’t limit you.”

  Faith watched the exchange, a little stunned. Dylan glanced over and caught her expression. “What? I’ve been paying attention.”

  He certainly had. Suddenly this situation they were in tonight felt even more uneven than it had earlier. She lifted her chin. “So what are you planning on wearing to the launch?”

  He shrugged. “A suit, I guess.”

  “White shirt and a random tie from your closet?” she asked sweetly.

  “Probably.”

  She shook her head in mock disappointment. “Conservative choice.”

  One corner of his mouth twitched. “Is that so?”

  “New deal.” She planted her hands on her hips. “You get to stay and have input into what I wear if I can choose something for you to wear.”

  He blinked slowly. “You’re changing the rules?”

  “I am.” She stood a little taller. “You got a problem with that?”

  “Nope. I’ve always liked your attitude. Deal.” He turned to Julie. “We’ll need time in the menswear section as well.”

  They walked around both sections of the store for twenty minutes, each handing garments to Julie to take to the other’s changing room. By the time they were finished, there were probably more clothes in there waiting for them than left on the shelves.

  “We’re done,” Dylan said.

  Julie nodded. “Okay, follow me.”

  She led them into a room the size of a small store in itself. It was circular, with mirrored doors along the outer wall and a round sofa in the middle. On one side of the room was a long chrome stand on wheels that was full of the dresses Faith had agreed to try on, and on the other side of the room was a matching stand with the clothes for Dylan. There was also an ice bucket on a stand, with champagne chilling.

  Julie lifted the bottle. “How about we start with a glass of bubbly?”

  Faith glanced at Dylan, and he raised an eyebrow, leaving it to her. The night they’d lost control had started with champagne... But tonight they were chaperoned, and she was having fun, so the champagne would be nice.

  She nodded at Julie. “Thank you.”

  Julie poured two glasses and handed them over. Dylan clinked his to Faith’s. “Here’s to an interesting night.”

  “Cheers,” she said and took a sip before handing her glass back to Julie and heading for her changing room. There were so many dresses, she didn’t know where to start, so she grabbed the first one her hand landed on and slipped through the door.

  It was an electric-blue velvet, floor-length number. As she was zipping up, Julie called out, “How’s it going? Need any help?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. The zip is on the side.”

  She adjusted the dress and looked in the mirror. The color was amazing on her, and the dress itself made her look more elegant than she’d anticipated. As she opened the door, Dylan stilled, his hand freezing on the shirt cuff he’d been adjusting.

  He cleared his throat. “Stunning. But it’s not the right one.”

  Faith looked down at the dress. “I like it.”

  “I like it, too. But it’s not the right one.”

  She was about to argue when she caught sight of the rack full of dresses still to try. No point becoming attached to the first one, anyway. “Turn around and show me what you’re wearing.”

  He held his arms out and turned, letting her see. He’d chosen the most conservative of all the options—a cream shirt with a black suit and charcoal tie. The colors set off his tan, but she smiled and said, “I like it, but it’s not the right one.”

  Julie jumped up from the sofa. “Good, we’re narrowing it down. Next! I’ll take those two outfits back into the store when you have them off.”

  Faith grabbed another dress and slipped back into the changing room. For the next five changes, Dylan’s eyes heated with approval, but he said each wasn’t the right one, so she kept going, wondering what he was waiting for.

  And for each of those five changes, she’d also rejected his outfits. Seeing him in a fitted white shirt that accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and his toned biceps had made her mouth dry, but she was waiting for something a little bit different.

  She emerged wearing the sixth dress, a light-as-air confection in mint green that shimmered like mother-of-pearl and seemed to float and sparkle as she moved.

  Dylan’s eyes darkened when he saw her. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” He reached out to touch the sleeve, and the warmth of his hand seeped through the light fabric. “This is more how I see you.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, looking down at the dress.

  “Let me ask you a question instead.” He lifted her chin with a crooked finger. “I’ve seen your heart. When you make flower arrangements, your heart is on display. Crab apple and mint, the Ruby Iris with pale pink bloo
ms and crystals. You’re unique, you’re creative and you’re effervescent. So why is your apartment so plain that it’s practically military issue?”

  She moved away, giving herself a moment to think. They’d agreed not to spend time alone together, so where did that leave soul-baring admissions? Maybe it would be best not to get too deep for exactly the same reasons.

  She shrugged. “I just haven’t gotten around to decorating yet. It doesn’t seem as if I’ve been there long enough.”

  “It’s more than that,” he said, moving back into her field of vision. “It’s part of not wanting to put down roots, isn’t it? Being a rolling stone?”

  This man saw through her far too easily. She let out a long breath and told him more than she’d ever told a living soul. “There was one time when I was nine. I was living with my grandparents, and I’d thought I was finally settled, that I’d finish growing up at their house.” She’d begun to hope. “I looked through magazines and ripped out posters of bands and actors that my little nine-year-old heart was crushing on, and I covered my walls with them. It was more than just putting posters up. It was about marking my territory. That room was mine, you know?”

  “Yeah, I do,” he said softly, his green eyes intense.

  “I spent ridiculous amounts of time arranging who to put where and who could be side by side with someone else. I was so proud of that damn wall when I was finished that I would lie on my bed and just stare at it.”

  He ran a hand up and down her back, hypnotizing her into a sense of calm. “What happened to the wall, Faith?”

  “Nothing. The wall was fine.” She swallowed hard. “But my father called one night and said he was picking me up in the morning to take me out to a theme park. Once we were on the road, he told me he was dropping me off with my mother afterward. She wanted to give parenthood another go.”

  Dylan’s body tensed, but his voice remained even. “What about your things?”