“Your list?” Justin asks, sounding clueless as usual.
“Yeah, you know, the list of people you’d get a pass to sleep with if you ever had the chance,” Kelly says. “Usually it’s celebrities and stuff, but Ronan Maddox is on mine. Damn, that man is fine.”
“I don’t care how hot he is,” Lydia says. “I wouldn’t do it.”
“Why are you all judgy about it?” Kelly asks. “You dated that sales guy for a while.”
“He wasn’t my boss,” Lydia says. “There’s a big difference. Selene already thinks she runs this place. If she’s sleeping with the boss, that’s only going to get worse.”
“She’s not that bad,” Kelly says. “Now you just sound jealous.”
“I’m hardly jealous,” Lydia says. “But watch. Selene’s going to get some big promotion, and we’re going to know exactly why.”
I back away from the room, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. This is exactly what I was afraid of. I hurry back to my office. I don’t want one of them to come out into the hallway and realize I heard. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.
Sex hair? Fuck.
When I get back to my desk, I have a message from Ronan. Can I see you in my office?
Ordinarily, that little message would fill me with anticipation. He might just need to chat with me about something business-related. Or, he might be standing in his office with a velvet rope, ready to tie up my hands and fuck me on his desk. But right now, I don’t want to play his games. We’ve been pushing the boundaries of what’s appropriate at work way too much.
Is it urgent? I type back. Busy.
It can wait. Lunch?
That probably means it’s business. Sure.
I don’t get much done in the two hours leading up to lunch. I keep going over what I heard in the break room. I just met with the development team the other day, and filled them in on the new direction for VI and the integration with Edge. Do they know about us too? Were they sitting there thinking, Of course Selene is encouraging us to trust Ronan. She’s banging him, so… Is everyone going to see an ulterior motive in everything I do?
This is one of the reasons I always stuck to my rule about dating coworkers. Things can get so awkward in the office.
And like Lydia said, I’m not just dating a coworker. I’m dating my boss. Everyone’s boss.
God, what am I doing?
Ronan knocks on my door and pokes his head in. “Ready? I was thinking Indian sounds good.”
“Can we just meet here really quick?” I ask. “I have a lot to do.” And I don’t want to be seen leaving for lunch with you. Again.
His brow furrows. “What’s going on that has you so busy?”
“Nothing,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Just the usual.”
“Then I’m pretty sure you can come have lunch with me,” he says.
I keep my eyes on my computer screen. “No, I really can’t.”
He quietly shuts the door and takes a seat across the desk from me. “Selene, what’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
He rests his elbow on the arm of the chair and puts a hand to his chin, looking at me with those piercing gray eyes. “Yes, there is. Tell me.”
I don’t know if I want to discuss this with him. He’s set above the world of office gossip. Untouchable. He won’t care what people say about him because he’s the owner. What are they going to do? They have to respect him. Not to mention there’s a maddening double standard. In the minds of most people in the office, Ronan sleeping with me makes him, at worst, an opportunist. He’s a man, having sex with a woman. Not a slut or a whore. But me? Oh, they’ll think all sorts of things about me, none of them flattering.
“I heard some people talking in the break room,” I say. “About me. About us.”
“What did they say?” he asks, his voice completely neutral.
“They were speculating as to whether we’re sleeping together,” I say. “Apparently people are saying I came out of your office the other day with sex hair.”
The corners of his mouth turn up. “You probably did.”
“Fuck you, Ronan,” I say, a flash of anger burning through me. “This isn’t a joke.”
The lines of his jaw stand out and his eyes narrow. “I don’t consider it a joke.”
“I work my ass off for this company,” I say. “I earned every bit of respect I have from the team. But now people aren’t going to see Selene Taylor. They’re going to see Ronan Maddox’s fucking mistress.”
I regret the words—and my tone—as soon as I say it. I shouldn’t lash out at him. It’s not his fault. He was persistent, but I made my own choices.
“All right,” he says, and stands. “I’ll back off.”
His tone is so cold, it’s like a slap to the face. He walks out of my office and shuts the door behind him.