Crossing the Line Read online

  He turns his computer on and sits back in the chair, stretching his arms. I very nearly jump on him right there. Everything he says or does is sexy, and it’s plain annoying. It’s only half-past nine and everything that could go wrong already has. I’m probably going to be fired soon so maybe I should just jump him on his big leather chair and get something out of today.

  God how slutty do I sound? I don’t sleep around. My sex life isn’t really anything to write home about – although I’d love to see Mum’s face if I did. To date I’ve had three relationships and two one-night stands. I’m a nun compared to some of my friends. I’ve never before had that I need you right here, right now thing I’m getting with Aden. None of my exes were Aden sexy.

  I sip my coffee and look over at his calendar on the monitor. It in no way matches the black diary sitting below his keyboard. He’s right; he is terrible at organising his time. I turn the page and see at least two meetings that aren’t on the computer. How does he manage to run a business?

  “Why do you use this?” I ask, tapping the black A4 diary. “Everything is electronic now. You can sync your calendar with your phone, you know?”

  “It’s just easier to scribble everything down in that.” He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips. Again, kissable lips. Don’t jump him. “Although it would probably be better if they matched.”

  “Yes,” I say, tapping away at the keyboard, adding the appointments from the diary to his calendar on his email account. “Welcome to the twenty first century, Mr Ford.”

  After a few hours we’ve managed to get his diary sorted out so he won’t have any more ‘fuck it’ runs to his car to make a meeting on time. I throw his diary in the bin the second we’ve finished so he can no longer be tempted to just ‘scribble something down’. This is my first job, and I’m the least organised person usually, but I’m totally acing this.

  “I’m bored now. Want to go out for lunch?” Aden says, pushing away from his desk and stretching his arms over his head. I watch the muscles in his forearms again, and my mouth goes dry. Why couldn’t he be ugly then I wouldn’t have issues paying attention.

  “Definitely.” I’m famished, and I really want to see Aden eat. He swallows sexy. I'd watched him take every sip of coffee, squirming in my seat. Jesus when did I become such a huge pervert?

  He stands and leads the way, opening his door for me. “Want me to drive?” I ask as we step into the lift.

  “You don’t want a glass of wine with lunch?”

  I can do that? There isn’t a no drinking during work hours rule? “Really?”

  “Amelie, I’m not your father.”

  Thank God! “Yes I just thought you weren’t supposed to drink at work.”

  He shrugs with one shoulder, smirking. His sexy blue eyes shine, and I want to marry him – and I don’t particularly see myself getting married to anyone.

  His eyes match a Kyanite gemstone necklace that my mum gave me for my nineteenth birthday. That clearly means something, right? His eyes match my necklace, so it’s a sign we’re supposed to get naked together. Now I don’t even care that after I Googled Kyanite I found out it promotes inner balance and was bought, very obviously, on purpose for me.

  “We’re not going to be at work.”

  “Can I ask you something without you taking offence?”

  His eyebrow arches. “I’m intrigued. Try me.” That isn’t a yes, but it’s close enough.

  “Are you really the boss? And I don’t mean that in a bitchy way or anything. I just thought a boss was… stricter, I guess, and here you are taking me out for lunch and encouraging me to drink. You’re not the building janitor or handyman, are you?” Oh God how embarrassing if the real Aden Ford walks in right now!

  His smile lights up his whole face and his eyes look the way my necklace does when sunlight hits it. “I’m not a handyman. I happen to think if you take time out to relax and step away from work occasionally you get more out of your employees and yourself. Stressing yourself out and working hard continuously doesn’t bring out the best in anyone.”

  “Hmm and plying them with wine does what?” I say and bite my lip. Flirting with the boss, I’m so professional.

  “Lowers their inhibitions so it’s not such of a fight when I ask them to come in topless. Sexual harassment lawsuits are a bitch.” I laugh, shaking my head as the glass life descends.

  All right I don’t have much to go on since this is my first job but Aden seems like the ultimate boss – and my dream man. Something has to be wrong. He’s either gay, into weird shit in the bedroom or an emotional fuck up. Or all of the above.

  He leads me out to his car, some posh looking black Audi. It’s low to the ground – fast and awkward. I open the passenger door and try to slide in gracefully. In reality, I probably look like a complete idiot, falling into it as if I’ve just tripped over.

  “Is there anywhere in particular you like to go?” he asks, sliding into the driver’s side gracefully.

  “No. I don’t mind.” There are plenty of places to eat in the office building, but I’m not going to complain about being cooped up in his car with him. He pulls away, and I grip the side of the seat as my heart leaps out of my chest. He accelerates fast. Shit, I’m going to die! If I make it back to the office safely, I will forget all about not jumping him and just do it. If we make it back, it’s a sign that I should seize the day.

  He looks over and laughs. “Does my driving scare you?”

  “Yes but then everyone’s driving in London scares me.”

  He eases off the accelerator, and we slow down a touch. Thank God. “I’ve been driving for the past eight years, and I haven’t crashed yet.”

  “Well that’s somewhat comforting to know. Although, perhaps that just means your time is coming.”

  He grins. “You’re nothing like your family.”

  It’s my turn to smile. I like hearing that. I love my family, but I’ll never be like them. “Thank you.” There is was no way I’m going to let myself fall into their world where I think I’m better than people with less money or I think it’s my right to dictate what life my children will lead – not that I want children.

  “You genuinely take that as a compliment, don’t you? Not that it wasn’t, but it’s a little odd, I suppose.”

  “I do. Why else do you think I’m being the black sheep of the family and going out to work?” I fake gasp. “A woman working. What a scandal.” A woman working in my parents’ world means her husband can’t afford to keep her and no one wants people thinking that. Personally, I couldn’t give a single fuck what anyone thinks of me.

  “I wanted to ask about that, but it’s not really any of my business.”

  I shrug. “You can ask what you like, I don’t mind. I just have a very different view of the world and a women’s role. I don’t want to rely on anyone. Being independent and looking after myself is important to me.”

  “Good for you. I don’t hear that enough. Well, not in my private life anyway.”

  “Are you expected to get married and live that-” My heart drops. Does Aden have a wife? “Are you married?”

  He scoffs, turning his nose up. “No. I’ve not met the right woman yet.”

  “Right one as in the one you fall madly in love with or the ‘best match’?”

  “You really do resent it, don’t you? I mean falling in love with. I don’t want a robot wife who agrees with everything I say and stays home to redecorate all day.” Oh my God, marry me! He is the first person in my snooty circle to think like that, apart from myself. It’s so refreshing to hear a man who’s been brought up by a similar family wanting a partner that’s his equal and not his bitch. “Do you get on with your mum at all?”

  “Not really,” I reply. “She doesn’t like me.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “No, it is. I’m not the daughter she wants. Harriet and Isabel are, though, so at least she can be proud of them. I’m more like my brother. I remember wat
ching Oliver playing outside when I was about eight. He was running around, hanging from tree branches, squealing with laughter and was inside with my sisters while Mrs Winborne gave us etiquette lessons. All I wanted to do was go outside and climb that big tree with him.”

  “Do you want a relationship with her?” he asks as we whiz past traffic in the wrong lane.

  “No,” I reply, forcing myself to concentrate on him and now what’s going on outside.

  “Yes you do.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine I do but I can’t. We’re too different, and I can’t be what she wants me to be. Plenty of people don’t have a good relationship with their parents, so it’s not big deal.”

  “Have you ever told her how you feel?”

  “You’ve met her, right?” My mum isn’t someone that talks about her deep feelings. Emotions are something you should hold in and lock away. It’s all about the show.

  “I’m sorry, Amelie.”

  I shrug. “Don’t be, it’s fine.” I’m sure his relationship with his parents isn’t exactly fluffy either.

  Aden pulls up outside a restaurant and not a fancy one, thankfully. “Your mum does the redecorating thing too, huh?” I say to change the subject from my mummy issues. As soon as one room is finished she starts on another. “Also glad about the not wanting a robot wife thing. I think some guy at my Uni had a real robot. She might have just been a mannequin, actually. He put make-up on her, though. It was creepy. He assured us he didn’t have sex with her, but he did.”

  He gapes at me. “And which Uni did you attend?”

  I laugh. “Same one you did.” We get out of the car and walk inside; Aden being a gentlemen again and holding the door open for me. I look up at him through a veil of my chocolate brown hair that’s fallen in my face.

  “Table for two?” The waiter asks, grabbing two menus before we can answer. Why ask?

  “Please. Somewhere private,” Aden replies, gesturing for me to walk ahead of him. His arm lightly brushes mine as I walk past him, giving me goose bumps. Somewhere private. Why do we need somewhere private? My heart jumps, even though I know he isn’t about to take me over the table. A girl can dream.

  We sit down in a quiet corner of the restaurant and order drinks – me white wine and him a beer. I still can’t get over how incredibly sexy he is. I want to congratulate his parents. “So what are you having? I think I’m going to have the vegetable lasagne.”

  He looks over his menu, smirking at me. “Veggie lasagne. Don’t you like meat?” His eyebrows shoot up suggestively. How charming.

  I try to keep a straight face. “Not that much, no.”

  “Well I’m getting the steak. Maybe you can try mine and see if that changes your mind.”

  Whoa, flirting back. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the double meaning there. I’ve never had a job before, but I’m pretty certain we have already crossed over the professional relationship line. I shrug, not wanting to stop the flirting yet. “Hmm, maybe I will.”

  He chuckles and nods to the waiter, gaining his attention. I bite my lip. Muscles, muscles, muscles. I wonder if he’s just a flirty person or if he wants to screw my brains out too. God the second one, please.

  Mentally shaking my head at myself, I frown. I have a one-track mind like a fourteen-year old boy after feeling his first boob when I’m around him. There’s something about Aden that makes me feel alive. He’s all man, from the strong muscular body, that sexy smirk, those deep come to bed eyes, down to the determined businessman. He radiates masculinity and screams I will fuck you until you can’t walk, and I – for the first time ever – want just that.

  I want a man that doesn’t shoot his load in five minutes, roll over and fall asleep. I want someone that doesn’t think a quick honk of the breasts and two fingers for five seconds is adequate foreplay. Is that really too much to ask for?

  “So, Amelie, what makes you want to work and leave behind the life of privilege, expensive cars and five holidays a year?”

  “Please call me Millie.” I frown. “But not in front of my parents.” He nods and grins in amusement. “I just hate the idea of living off of someone else. I can’t sit back and do nothing. I will most definitely go insane being home all the time, and when I buy a house and a car I want to know that I’ve bought it.”

  “So you don’t like the idea of being a housewife?”

  I shake my head. “No way! I mean it’s fine if that’s what makes you happy, but it’s not for me. Everyone should have a choice.”

  “You really want to move out and live on your own?”

  “Yes. As soon as I have enough money I’m gone.” I have a very, very large trust fund, but I don’t want to use it. I won’t be making it myself if I use Daddy’s money to live on my own. I’m leaving the money where it is and have already opened a new account for my wages. I’m starting from the beginning like most people have to.

  He nods and briefly bites his lip. “I understand that. My only choice growing up was working for my dad. I hated knowing exactly what I would be doing right up until the day I die. I felt like I had no options and no control over my own life. I rebelled and took off for six months after University. Dad eventually found me, and we worked out a compromise. I was going to start on my own, but in a similar line as him, we could help each other out. I’ve always been passionate about music and discovering new artists, so a record label seemed like the perfect thing for me to do. I love it.”

  I smile as I see in his eyes just how passionate he is about what he does. That’s what I want to find. I want a job I love. “I really admire that,” I say and he smiles a boyish smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

  “It’s important to me that I build something up for myself. I don’t want to be handed anything. But going on my own means that I don’t have the finances to start up big. Don’t get me wrong, we’re doing well but without backing the label won’t grow as quickly as I’d like. We’re turning down too much talent because we can’t accommodate it. I’ve been speaking to a few people in Dublin, entrepreneurs that want to try something new without much risk or effort.” Sounds like men with too much money to me. “It’s going well, we’ve emailed contracts back and forth, ironing out details, and I’m going back soon to meet hopefully for the final time.”

  I smile. Finally, someone that understands where I’m coming from – although Aden is much braver than me. “Where did you take off to after Uni?”

  He laughs and shakes his head, and I know he’s not going to tell me. “I’m not giving you tips, Millie”

  I gently punch the table, pretending to be annoyed. Actually I am a little. Things would be so much easier if I just ran away but as much as my family make me want to pull my hair out I don’t want to leave and never see them again.

  Aden laughs and the sound goes straight between my legs. His laugh is low, deep and too sexy. “I just went travelling the world for a while. You want to travel?”

  Is that an offer? I shake my head to clear the lustful thoughts that are invading my mind. I need to stop thinking about him so much; it’s unhealthy. I have only known him for four hours. Not to mention he’s my bloody boss!

  He looks at me, waiting. Oh right, his question. “Yes. I definitely want to travel,” I reply. I’ve seen a lot of the world already, but it was on family holidays, so I know I didn’t get the full experience of every place we’ve been to. Five star hotels are very lovely in every country.

  “There’s going to be some travel involved with this job. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “Your dad said there would be.”

  “Good. We won’t be gone for more than a day or two at a time, and it won’t be often, I promise.”

  That started off a whole new round of inappropriate thoughts – this time involving hotel rooms, planes and lifts. I was fine with traveling. I actually wish he would make me go away for a while, and not just so I would have more of a chance to tie him to a hotel bed.

  Over lunch, I’ve found o
ut that Aden is so easy to get along with and I like him much more than I should. His family and childhood was pretty much the same as mine. I love having someone I can share my true thoughts with, someone that’s felt as suffocated by having everything planned out for you as I do.

  Back at the office, I spend the rest of the afternoon filing some new employee forms in my office and setting up my emails. Aden walks into the room and leans against the wall, casually crossing one leg over the other. I look up and sigh in my head. Wow, wow, wow!

  “So, are you going home or do you want to spend the night here?” he says, cocking his head to the side. Well that all depends on whether he’s staying or not.

  I glance up at the clock above his head and see it’s just after five already. “Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late.” After closing down my computer, I stand up and grab my handbag. Aden watches me, and I feel self-conscious. No one makes me self-conscious, and I hate it. I’ve never really cared what anyone thinks of me before him. I want him to like me.

  “Ready then?” he asks as I walk towards him. I nod, and we walk to the lift together. I’ve not seen his dad at all. I half expected him to pop in to see how I was getting on so he could relay it back to my mum. Unless she has hidden cameras. I frown. That isn’t too crazy for Elizabeth Cohen. She would see it as protecting me. Oh my God has she had cameras fitted? I look up at the ceiling and sure enough there are cameras up there, but the building had CCTV security.

  “You okay, Millie?”

  I look to Aden, and he’s watching me, trying hard to keep a straight face. “Yes.” Damn. “Those the building’s CCTV cameras?” I ask, pointing above us.

  “Yes, why? Who else would they belong to?”

  Clearly he doesn’t know my mum because I’m not being ridiculous. I laugh it off. “Sorry, silly question.”

  The lift is crammed, but we step in, squished together and make our way downstairs. There’s hardly, any room so my side is pressed right against his chest. He makes no attempt to move back and give us more space.