Beneath the Boss: Omnibus (The Complete Collection) (7 page)

He stalked over to the window, taking in the morning view. It occurred to him that of all the people he knew, Layla was the only one he’d trust with something of this magnitude. And, obviously, he couldn’t talk to her about it. He’d have to go it alone, let his instincts, which had served him so well, guide him.

And hope like hell he made it out unscathed.

A
fter Leighton’s visit, morning passed uneventfully, busy as any Monday, but Layla was grateful for the distraction. By lunchtime, she’d fielded a number of Leighton’s requests, still as terse and unyielding as ever, but she found comfort in that. She could honestly say she had no clue what was happening between them and what it meant for her future. She wasn’t even certain she still wanted to leave. It was a mess, an orgasm-inducing, oh-my-God-I’m-sleeping-with-my-hot-boss-who-also-happens-to-be-a-demanding-jerk mess, but a mess none the less. She needed reinforcements.

She picked up the phone and dialed, smiling when the squeaky, “Hello, I think I recognize this name, but it’s been so long, I can’t quite remember,” floated across the line.

“Hey, Squeak,” Layla said in response to her best friend, who was Marla’s daughter, and more like a sister since they’d know each other their entire lives.

“What up, Ms. Layla? We miss you!” Squeak replied.

“You, too, so I’m calling a meeting. Seven thirty at Hannigan’s. You call the girls.”

“Yes, Captain. See you there.”

“Can’t wait! See you later.”

••••

A
s she gathered her things to leave for the day, she debated whether or not to go to Leighton and ultimately decided against it. He’d never kept track of her comings and goings before, and she didn’t see a reason to change that now, so she left, excitement at seeing the girls building as she drove over to Hannigan’s, a local hangout that specialized in Irish Mexican fusion. Her mouth watered at the thought of a huge plate of Irish nachos. She also felt the seams of her pants groaning. She should probably abstain and have a salmon salad instead.

Screw that,
she thought with a chuckle.

Her laughter increased when she pulled into the lot and saw, as always, she was the last to arrive. She walked in and spotted Squeak, Mary Alice, and Katrina at their usual table, then waved and moved toward them.

“I thought Mr. Meanie was keeping you again,” Squeak said. She was truly her mother’s daughter.

“Not everything his fault. I just happen to have a slight issue with arriving on time. Don’t judge me,” Layla said with a smile.

“Oh crap, did she just defend the big, bad wolf? Either this is Layla’s evil twin, or somebody has to spill. Right. Now.” Mary Alice punctuated her words a surprising stern look, particularly for a diminutive daycare owner. But then again, Mary Alice ran her center with a mix of love, fun, and military precision, as she had run almost everything else going back to their sophomore year in college in San Antonio, so Layla supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.

The server stepped over to the table, inquiring about drinks and appetizers, and Layla ordered large Irish nachos and pitcher of raspberry margaritas.

After the waiter left, the table sat in stunned silence for a moment before Katrina piped up. “Nachos and margaritas. Yea, M.A., this is big. Don’t hold out on us, Layla.”

“Come on, Katrina. Aren’t you supposed to be bragging about John?”

“I’m in love with a ridiculously handsome man who thinks my love handles are cute. He understands and accepts me body and soul, and I can’t imagine life without him. Done. Now give it up, Layla.”

The ladies erupted with laughter at Katrina’s succinct summary of her current love life. She’d always had issues with confidence and way too many responsibilities, but her new boyfriend, and soon to be something more Layla suspected, brought a balance and calm to Katrina’s life that Layla hadn’t seen in the ten years they’d been friends.

“Nothing I say can leave this table.” She waited for the round of agreement before continuing. “I slept with Leighton. And spent the weekend sleeping with him more.”

Silence was followed by a chorus of “bout times,” “how was its?” and “oh, honeys.” Just about the range of reactions she’d expected. After they’d quieted, she proceeded to tell the story, interrupted only by the delivery of food and drink and the occasional sip and bite. When she finished, she sat back and took a long swallow of her margarita, letting the sweet concoction rest on her tongue a moment before letting it slide down her throat.

Surprisingly, it was Katrina who spoke first. “Do you love him?”

Layla exhaled, giving the question thought before stating “I do. But does it matter?”

“Of course it does,” Katrina said. “Look, you don’t have any idea where this is going, do you?”

Layla shoot her head no.

“Then the love has to guide you.”

“I disagree completely,” Mary Alice said. “He slept with you because he was mad. How childish.”

“I was an active and eager participant, M.A.,” Layla said, feeling obligated to defend Leighton.

“Doesn’t matter. Anyone with eyes could see you’ve been halfway in love with that man since Ms. Francis passed. I’m sorry to bring it up, but it’s the truth. And I find it hard to believe that the very intelligent Leighton didn’t recognize it. He manipulated you for his own gain.”

“Come on, Mary. That doesn’t make sense. Leighton can have anyone he wants. Why go to such great lengths for me?”

“I love you, Layla, but you’re a moron,” Squeak put in. “Why do you think he reacted so strongly? You’re beautiful—don’t roll your eyes at me, you are—and an amazing asset. Of course he wants you around, and if fringe benefits are involved, more’s the better.”

Layla’s shoulders sagged, doubt creeping in. “But you guys didn’t see him, how different he was...”

“I believe you, Layla,” Katrina said. “You have powerful feelings for the man. And I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to say he obviously has them for you as well. I don’t know much about the guy, but have you considered that he just might not know how to express them? Imagine it from his perspective: He has gobs of money and influence, but he works in a ultracompetitive field, and he’s always got to stay on his toes. On the other side, he’s not lacking female attention, but he has to stay on his toes there as well because who knows what motives Sally the Socialite has? Enter Layla, sharp, attractive, trustworthy, and eventually someone he relies on for years. Then, boom, out of nowhere, at least as far as he can tell, she decides to leave, and he’s left with approximately no one. It’s not my life, and I’m freaking out, so I can see why he got desperate, and I can imagine that he doesn’t quite have the life experience that would allow him to express these emotions in a reasonable fashion, so he used his personality and the attraction between you to speak for him.”

Layla nodded at Katrina’s sensible words.

“I don’t deal with the guy day to day, so I can’t speak to that, but good, bad, and ugly, you love him, and not at least exploring that wouldn’t be fair to yourself,” Katrina said.

“But how does she explore it?” Squeak asked. “If that means she’s stuck catering him by day and sleeping with him at night, that’s not right. Layla deserves more, and if he can’t give it, she needs to move on. And what about that other offer, Layla? You wanted open a micro-fund forever. You’re not going to give that up for Leighton, are you?”

“I don’t know, Squeak,” Layla said, frustration building. “All of you are at least partially right. But I can’t expect Leighton to be clear about what he wants and expects if I’m not.”

“And do you know what you want?” Katrina asked.

“I want to try. No business, no other job, just Leighton and Layla, see if this is going anywhere.”

“And if that’s contingent on you staying with Means?” M.A. asked.

“I won’t be controlled, but I hope it doesn’t come to that. I’ll just have to talk to him.”

“And if we need to bust out all the windows on however many cars he has, you know where to find us,” Squeak said.

Layla laughed and said, “I don’t think we’ll need to commit any felonies, but thanks for the offer.”

They finished dinner, and after well wishes and agreements to get together again soon, Layla drove off, thoughts of Leighton still on her mind.

T
he next day, Layla was still uncertain, but dinner with the girls had clarified some things. She loved Leighton, probably had for a long time, and it felt good admit it. But, love notwithstanding, she still had goals and dreams and she needed to figure out whether she could achieve them with Leighton. She’d briefly considered calling Anson to talk about his offer but decided against it. It felt wrong to talk with him before she’d settled things with Leighton, and, as ridiculous as it was, somewhat disloyal. It was settled. She’d talk to Leighton, really talk to him, and go from there.

••••

A
fter dressing, Leighton went down to his office. He’d missed Layla last night, missed her now, but he was unsure what do to about it. And then, as if conjured from his imagination, she there. She wore her typical attire, but today her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, exposing her cheekbones and the soft, smooth skin of her neck. Then she smiled, and his heart lifted. It took every ounce of his self-control to resist rushing to her and wrapping her in his embrace.

“Good morning, Layla. What’s on the schedule today?”

She settled in her favorite chair and dove in to the day’s issues, and he sat down, let himself fall into business. They talked for about a half hour before Layla said, “Okay, I think that’s it for now.” She stood and turned to head out of the door before she stopped and looked back at him.

“May I come back before I head home? I’d like to discuss a more personal matter.”

“I’ll be here.”

She nodded and left. He tried to keep himself distracted throughout the day, but he kept thinking back to Layla. For a split second he worried that she wanted to call things off, but he didn’t think so. She’d seemed happy, and he doubted, hoped, she wasn’t cruel enough to string out a rejection.

He’d find out soon enough.

That evening, she settled into her favorite chair in his office, much like she had earlier. Layla squirmed and fidgeted, something he was unaccustomed to from her.

“I need to get this out. I don’t want you to do or say anything until I’m done. I know I don’t have to worry about you trying to placate me or soothe my feelings, but just for the record, please don’t feel obligated to say anything.”

Leighton’s curiosity, which was already peaked, was now on full alert.

She took a deep breath before saying, “I have, uh, feelings for you, and I’d like to see if there’s anything here.”

Deep satisfaction spread through him. He’d suspected as much, didn’t think Layla would have allowed him into her bed otherwise, but to hear her confirm it out loud again was nice.

She continued, “I know we’ve talked about it a little, but we haven’t discussed this in detail, and I don’t think we’ll get anywhere until we do. So here’s what I’m proposing. I’ll stay with the company for the time being”— she cut a sharp look at what he knew was a self-satisfied smile— “with understanding that I’m still considering Smythe’s offer and may consider others with no interference from you, subtle or otherwise.”

He didn’t have to worry about Smythe, but it was still a tough pill to swallow. He didn’t like the idea of Layla working for anyone else, but from the firm set of her lips and shoulders, he knew this was a deal breaker.

He nodded his assent, and she went on. “Okay. And like we said, we keep personal stuff away from work. Oh, and you’ll be nice to me and do whatever I say.”

He laughed, and she joined him, the melodic tone something he could get used to.

“Figured that would too much of an ask, but it was worth a shot.”

“You’re a brilliant negotiator. I’d expect no less.” He sobered. “I don’t know what I feel, Layla. I hate the idea of you working for someone else, and I love making love to you, spending time with you. I want to do more of both.”

“And other people...” She trailed off.

He sat up straight and barked out, ice, and possessiveness, in his tone, “What about them?”

“We both agree not to be involved with anyone else while we’re involved with each other. This can’t continue otherwise. I know I don’t have the right to demand fidelity, but this won’t work without it. I don’t share.”

He relaxed a little at her words. He didn’t share either. In truth, he hadn’t be with anyone for almost a year, and one taste of Layla had ruined him for other women. And Layla would be with another man over his dead body. He’d keep her so satisfied she wouldn’t have the time or energy to even consider it.

“Agreed. For as long as we’re...doing whatever we’re doing, we’re exclusive.”

She brightened.

“And If you come upstairs and spend the night with me, I’ll be very nice to you,” he said, the invitation, the promise, clear.

Her smile dampened a bit, and she shook her head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want anyone to see my car still here in the morning.”

He couldn’t help but question her. “Why? It’s not like you haven’t worked all night before.”

“I know. I’m just not comfortable with it. But,” the hesitance in her eyes faded and was replaced with a mischievous gleam, “this might tide you over.”

She stood and removed her jacket, and Leighton leaned back in his chair, his cock stirring as he tried to imagine what she had in store.

••••

L
ayla was relieved. Their conversation has cleared the air, and now she wanted to play. She walked around his desk, trailing her fingers across the edge.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your desk?” she asked as she stopped in front if him and leaned against it.

His eyes had turned the stormy gray that signaled his arousal and that was quickly becoming her favorite color, and she could see the confusion in their depths.

“Uhh, no, you hadn’t mentioned it,” he said as she leaned forward and placed her hands on his chest.