Boss I Love to Hate An Office Romance - Mia Kayla Page 0,34

shift in my seat. “I’d appreciate that, Sonia. Really.”

“Consider it done.” I tore my eyes away from his, lifting my glass to my lips, giving myself something to do.

The niceness between us was just plain bizarre. When you were used to bantering with someone a certain way and then, all of a sudden, the mood changed, it was plain odd. More than odd. Crazy twilight-zone odd.

Sarah and Mary were excused from the table to do their homework, and as I stood, Brad grabbed my plate and placed it on top of his.

“I can help do dishes,” I offered, aware that it was just the two of us left in the room. Again.

“It’s fine. We have a dishwasher.”

He moved with grace and confidence, even to the sink. Some people were born leaders. Brad was one of these men. I could tell from how he led his meetings and talked to his staff. When Brad walked into a room, there was no way he could be ignored. When he was present, people noticed. Even how he did the dishes was powerful.

I walked past him and grabbed the pans on the stove. “I actually love doing dishes.” I moved to the sink as he began to load the dishwasher.

“Of course you do. With five siblings, you must have done a lot of dishes.” He chuckled.

I held the pan up midair. “How do you know how many siblings I have? I never mentioned it.”

“You mentioned it to Charles one day.” He shrugged as though it was no big deal, but it was. A huge deal to me. He rarely paid attention. I never thought he cared to know about anyone else, except himself.

Goodness, he couldn’t even get the security guard’s name correct, and he had worked for him forever. Today had been an eye-opening, period-pad-buying, almost-deal-making experience.

“What?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Nothing.” I turned on the faucet and began to suds up the pans while he rinsed off the dishes and then placed them in the dishwasher.

“This is being domestic,” he said.

I felt a strange wave of déjà vu as we stood there, side by side. We looked exactly like my mother and father, cleaning up after our large family dinners.

I choked on my own saliva. And coughed.

“You okay?”

“Yeah”—cough—“I’m”—cough—“okay.”

“Do you need some water or something?”

I shook my head.

What? Where the hell did that come from?

Getting my mind off of it, I scrubbed the pots and pans hard enough to turn my hands pink from the pressure. I needed to leave—and, like, ASAP before I went crazy. All this domestication and seeing Brad in this element were throwing me for a loop.

“So, did you want to discuss the deal?” I had to steer this course back to the straight path and stay in my lane.

He wiped his hands on the towel next to him. “Sure, but with a glass of wine. After this exhaustive day with Sarah and work, I need a drink. Let’s head to the living room.”

Wine? Wine was not good. I still had to drive home. My heartbeat picked up in tempo, and I rubbed my sweaty palms against my skirt.

“You just had a glass.” I glanced at the wine bottle still set on the table.

“I need another one. I’ll open a bottle of Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon. Trust me. You’ll like it.”

We sat in their living room, which had a bar area comparable to what I’d seen in small restaurants. We talked about his upcoming meeting with Thomas and how he’d bring up my points on keeping his employees employed as one of the main reasons he should consider selling. We talked about his nieces, and for a little bit, Brad asked me about my family, all my siblings, and my parents.

Oddly, it felt nice, as though I were talking to an old friend, as though I were talking to Ava, which was weird because Brad was not Ava. And because this was the guy I’d pictured torturing in different, excruciating ways.

Time had flown by, and by the time I looked at my watch, it was past nine in the evening.

Mary and Sarah said their good nights, and after Brad tucked them in, we continued our conversation.

After downing my first and only glass of red wine liquid courage, I straightened. This was it. No way to chicken out now. “So …” I swallowed. “… one of my best friends is getting married at the end of the month, and I …” I twisted my fingers around the slim neck of the wineglass, staring