Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) by Claire Adams

couldn’t even explain why.
    “Agreed. I'm here to make a significant contribution
to this firm, and I intend to put my best foot forward at all times,” she
assured me.
    “That's what I like to hear. Anyway, I think I've kept
you from your work too long already. We do still have a long way to go on the
Harry Winston campaign, so I’ll let you get back to working on that.”
    She nodded and stood. For a moment, I thought she was
going to say something else, but instead she simply nodded again and headed out
of my office.

 
    ***

 
    I cranked up the punk tune on my Maserati's sound
system as I pulled out of the Sinclair Building’s parking garage, nodding my
head in time with the driving beat. While I usually played classical music on
my drive home to relax my mind after a long, hard day at work, since finding
out that Lilah’s brother was in a band I'd been into since I was a teenager,
I'd searched through my collection and added a few tracks by the Razor's Edge
to my playlist.
    I weaved through the early evening traffic as the
track raged. I was barely two blocks from the office when I noticed a familiar
figure walking along the sidewalk.
    Lilah. I would recognize her curves anywhere.
    I pulled up to the curb and rolled down my window.
    “Lilah!”
    She glanced over her shoulder, looking surprised to
hear my voice. She saw me in the car and smiled.
    “Hi, Asher!” she said as she stopped and turned to
acknowledge me.
    “Do you need a ride?”
    She hesitated before responding. “I suppose I could
use one, if you don't mind.”
    “Not at all. Come on, hop in.”
    She hurried across the sidewalk and climbed into the
passenger seat of my car.
    “Nice ride,” she said. “I do love a Maserati.”
    I grinned and gave the engine a rev. “She is a beauty,
huh? I have a soft spot for fast cars. Guy thing, I guess. You should come
check out my collection sometime.”
    “Sure. I'm not exactly a gearhead, but I can
appreciate a well-built machine,” she revealed, her undertone just enough to
send a touch of warmth rushing through me. “And, I happen to know a thing or
two about engines,” she added.
    I tried not to sound surprised as I replied. “Oh, you
do?”
    “I grew up an only girl in family of older brothers,
two of whom are motorcycle fanatics, and no mom. My dad was a mechanic who had
his own garage, and he spent most of his waking hours there working on engines.
Being in the garage was pretty much the only way I could spend time with him, so
I learned a thing or two about engines while I was growing up.”
    “Wow. Sounds like an unconventional childhood.”
    “I suppose in some ways, it was. As yours was, I
imagine.”
    “Yeah, I guess it was,” I replied. I wasn't quite
ready to discuss my childhood with her, even though talking to her did feel
like the most comfortable and natural thing in the world, so I decided to
switch the topic.
    “So, why were you walking home from work? It's a good
forty-five minute walk from the office to your place, if I remember correctly.”
    “My car's at the mechanic's,” she replied. “And, since
it was a nice evening, I just thought I’d walk instead of taking the bus.”
    “Couldn't fix it yourself, huh?” I joked with a wink.
    “I could have, quite easily, but I don't have the time—not
with the current schedule being what it is. Not that I'm complaining,” she
added hastily.
    “Oh, well, good thing I drove past you when I did,
then.”
    “And why is it you're driving this car today and not
being ferried around by Alfred?”
    “I prefer driving myself,” I replied. “I often have to
use Alfred, though, just because of the volume of work I have. I can get quite
a bit done in the commute if I'm sitting in the car working on my tablet
instead of having to actually drive. Today's workload wasn't supposed to be too
intense, so I decided I didn't really need to be driven around by someone
else.”
    She smiled and I couldn’t help stealing glances at