“Nice to know you get out of the office at some point. It’s good to get exercise and fresh air.”
“I usually run along the waterfront. Racquetball is only for clients.”
“Me, too. Funny we haven’t run into each other.” Besides the bush-hiding incident that I’d take to my grave.
“You mean besides that one time a few weeks ago?” His voice held a playfulness that I’d never heard in the office. Brogan was always congenial and charismatic at work, but this felt different, slightly more intimate. “Or was I not supposed to bring that one up?” He winked.
My jaw dropped. Was there anything this guy didn’t know? I swore I’d hidden before he even had the chance to notice I was in the vicinity. “How did you—”
“Can’t say many people jump into bushes when they see me coming. Or have leaves in their hair when they come to work. You leave quite a lasting impression, Taylor, I’ll give you that.”
Heat trickled to my neck and cheeks, and if the sofa happened to swallow me up, I’d be thankful right about now. “Yeah, I don’t even want to try to explain that one.”
He nodded and a smile played at his lips, but after a few moments his expression turned serious. “All joking aside, this company is my life, and the first few years are always the toughest with any business. I know these rules may seem a little”—he searched for the right word—“tough, but I have to do whatever it takes.”
“But you need to get out and have fun once in a while. You’ll drive yourself mad if you’re in your office twenty-four seven.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be the one trying to make you feel better, not the other way around?”
“Giving life advice to people older than me does the trick.” In fact, talking with Brogan, along with the cathartic rage, was a welcome distraction from worrying over my mom.
He shook his head and smiled, probably reassessing his decision not to call security when he had the chance. “I’m supposed to take advice from someone who hangs out in bushes?”
I swatted him in the arm and immediately retracted my hand. Smacking my boss probably wasn’t the smartest route to go, especially if it was flirtatious. Crap, I wasn’t just hitting Brogan, I was hitting on him.
“Fine.” He put his hands up in defense but still had a smile etched on his face. “What do you suggest I do?”
“I don’t know. Go out to movies? Clubs? Do you like dancing?”
“Negative on the dancing. My mom signed me up for ballet when I was seven, and I got kicked out when I spit in my teacher’s bun.”
“Okay, dancing is officially crossed off the list. I’m surprised that’s not in the manual.”
He side-eyed me. “Pushing it, Taylor.”
I stuck out my tongue. “Pushing the limits is what I do best. It’s why you hired me.”
He raised a brow. “Is it?”
“Judging that I’ve made it past the one-month mark, I think so.” In fact, on Monday, it’d be two months, as long as I didn’t manage to get canned within the next few hours.
“Yes, you have. An impressive feat. And if you really must know, I like to stay in and read. Sometimes I play online chess.”
I cupped my hand to my ear. “Do you hear that?”
His brows furrowed in confusion as his eyes darted around his condo. “Hear what?”
I picked up my phone and pretended to take a call. “Hello?” I put my hand over the receiver and whispered, “It’s AARP, calling about your membership.”
He chuckled and shook his head. The dimples made a quick appearance, and my mind fuzzed to static for a split second before hearing his question. “Okay, fine, what do you do for fun?”
“I usually watch Netflix with my roomie, Bachelor every Monday with my mom, and I like hiking and farmer’s markets.”
He smiled and sat back against the couch again, his arms spreading across the top and his left leg propped up on his right knee. This was the most casual I’d ever seen Brogan, and I had to admit, the look was particularly appealing tonight.
“What were your plans tonight, after you were done breaking into my house?”
“I was not breaking into your house. I was taking care of your dog while you were supposed to be in a meeting. But if you must know, I was going to go home and bake.”
His eyes darted to mine with newfound interest. “What do you like to bake?”
“The Taylor specialty is chocolate chip cookies. My mom’s recipe is awarded the blue ribbon each year at the state fair.”
Brogan groaned. “That sounds amazing. I haven’t had cookies in forever.”
“What? They don’t go well with your prune juice and Tums?”
His lips pressed into a thin line, but I could tell he was trying his best to suppress a smile. “I’m still your boss, you know.”
“What were you planning on doing tonight, since you’ve mysteriously come home early from your meeting?”
“Watch a movie. Maybe a documentary,” he said matter-of-factly.
“A documentary? Oh, boss, we need to get you in the twenty-first century. Where’s the remote?”