Crossing the Line (2 page)

I nod; grateful that he’s let the whole me
making an idiot of myself thing go. “That sounds great.” I follow him to the
kitchen, and my eyes flick to his perfect bum as we walk. I wonder if he has a
no intimate relationship with employees rule. I bloody hope not.

Chapter Two

“So you’re Samuel and Elizabeth Cohen’s
daughter,” he says as he pours the water into our mugs. I watch his forearm
muscles flex as he pours and gulp. How can anyone make fixing a cup of coffee
sexy?

“Yes,” I reply.

“I remember you.” He tries hard not to grin
but fails. His eyes, showing how amused he is at whatever memory is about to
embarrass me, look bluer and brighter than before. “Two years ago at your
house. Wow...” He chuckles and shakes his head. Wow what?

“Uh-oh,” I mumble under my breath as
suddenly I remember exactly what party he attended.
That
Christmas party. The one where I got completely drunk –
hence why I don’t remember him – and danced on the table. I vaguely
remember knocking over Mum’s crystal champagne glasses too. That was a bad
night in the Cohen house. “Sorry I don’t really remember you,” I reply
casually.

He lets out a quiet laugh. “I’m not at all
surprised.” Oh God I should just go home now, shouldn’t I? “I don’t often
attend those parties, but I made an exception for that one. Glad I did too.”
Perfect.
My parents didn’t talk to me
for weeks after that. “So, have you calmed down since then?”

I want to say yes, I really do. I open my
mouth to answer. I could lie, but I don’t think anything else could make this
worse. “No, not really.”

“Good,” he replies and hands me my coffee.
Good? It’s good? I bite my lip and scramble after him, checking out his peachy
behind as we head back to his office.

Aden pulls another chair beside his, takes
off his jacket and hangs it on the coat hanger. I lower myself on the chair and
bite my lip, the whole time watching his every move like a stalker. He
unbuttons his cuffs and rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Oh
wow.

“So you recently finished Uni”? he asks and
sips his coffee.

Lucky mug. I gawp at his full lips. They
look soft and kissable, and he asked me something. I nod. Uni. “Yes, just
finished. Did you go?” I know he went to mine, but I’m making conversation and
I don’t want him to think I knew before he told me, it’d look like I was
checking up on him, which I was.

“Yes, though it was a few years ago now.”

“How many?” My eyes widen as I finish my
sentence. First day of my first job and not only do I spin on a chair like a
five-year-old, but I ask my boss his age too.

Aden turns his head towards me and smirks.
I like that smirk, it’s very, very sexy. “Are you trying to find out how old I
am?”

Yes. “No.” I shake my head, though I do
really want to know. “Sorry, that was rude, and I shouldn’t have said it.”

He grins and his bright blue eyes are
alight again. “It’s fine, Amelie. I finished four years ago. I’m twenty-five.”

“Younger than I thought.”

“Really?” He intrigued. His eyebrows rise.
“How old did you think I was?”

“Not old, old if that’s what you’re
thinking. I don’t know, about twenty-seven, I guess.”

He nods. “I would ask how old you are, but
it’s rude to ask a lady her age.”

“Plus my date of birth is on my CV.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to take a look at that.”

I frown. Surely he would have at the very
least looked at my application and decided which people he wanted his dad to
interview? “You haven’t seen it?”

“I’ve been in Dublin for the past month.
Part business and part pleasure. My father and his assistant took care of the
PA position.”

“So you really had no clue who was walking
in here today?”

He shrugs. “I’ve met you once, sort of. I
know your family, and I trust my father’s judgement… in business anyway.” Oh
that sounds like resentment. I am totally on board with you there, buddy.

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 watching 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.”