Boss Next Door Read online

  It’s a thought that sends a jolt of curiosity – and as much as it galls me to admit, jealousy – rocketing through me. I mean, I thought I saw a longing in his eyes last night when he looked at me. I thought I saw that old, familiar hunger and desire I used to see in his face when he looked at me. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe I didn’t actually see what I thought I did.

  I mentally kick myself. None of that matters. Braxton is my boss. Period. There is and will be nothing more between us. Even though this is my choice – and I know it’s for the best – I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a slight twinge of disappointment flowing through me.

  Jesus, I’m a hot mess right now.

  I clear my throat, quashing all the feelings flowing through me. I can’t afford to deviate from the path I’m on right now. Not by a foot – not by an inch. My path right now is working, learning, and becoming the best architect I can possibly be.

  Maybe it’s a crappy thing to do, but I am going to use the experience and knowledge I’m able to glean here as a stepping stone. I can’t see this situation with Braxton right now as anything but temporary. Once I’m able to put together a portfolio of my own and build something of a reputation for myself, I’ll move on. Some would probably call that cold and callous, but I call it necessary.

  This is a relationship born of necessity, and I’ll milk it for everything it’s worth.

  “Sorry about Curtis,” Braxton starts. “He’s a talented guy, but he can be – difficult. He sees himself as more of an artist than an architect. He also doesn’t handle change well.”

  “I can tell. But it’s fine,” I respond with a quiet laugh. “I’ve dealt with difficult people before.”

  Braxton chuckles. “Curtis takes being difficult to an extreme.”

  “Then why do you tolerate him?” I ask. “Why not fire him?”

  “Oh, are we asking and answering personal questions now?” he smiles at me.

  I smirk at him. “I don’t think that qualifies as a personal question since it directly impacts my work.”

  “Fair enough,” he says with a chuckle. “And to answer your question, when my father transferred control of the company over to me, I gave him my word that I would keep certain people on staff rather than clean house.”

  I give him a small smile. “So you’re it now, huh? You’re the big man in charge.”

  “I am. And my folks are off traveling the world, enjoying life,” he replies. “And I can’t say I’m not just a wee bit envious.”

  We sit in a strained silence for a few moments, and I can’t help but think there is so much that needs to be said – and so much that should probably never be said. As hard as I’ve tried to harden my heart, and no matter how high or thick the walls I’ve put up around my heart are, I’ve never been able to shut Braxton out entirely. I talk a good game, and sometimes I even convince myself that I feel nothing for him. But somewhere deep down, I know I’m lying.

  Deep down, I know that Braxton, despite my best efforts to lock him out, still has a firm hold on me – even if he doesn’t realize it. It’s dangerous to me, and I know it, which is why I know I need to keep a tight control over myself. I can’t afford to let him wriggle all the way back in. I won’t take that sort of risk with my heart. Not again.

  Braxton catches my gaze and holds it, making my heart turn a flip-flop in my chest. My feelings for and about him are so completely all over the map; it makes me feel like a clueless teenage girl all over again. I know that if I don’t want to make a big mess of this opportunity I have before me to get my life back on track, I need to pull it together and keep myself in check.

  “How did you end up back here, Chloe?” Braxton asks. “What happened?”

  I sigh. “Is that relevant to my job?”

  Braxton sits back his seat, gazing at me intently. “No, I suppose not. But listen, despite everything that happened in the past, we’ve known each other for a long time. I consider you a friend, Chloe. I always have,” he tells me. “And as your friend, I can tell you’re hurting right now. I just want you to know that I’m here for you to talk to.”

  I can hear the sincerity in his voice and honestly, it’s so unexpected that I’m touched by it. The Braxton I knew was never the touchy-feely; let’s talk about our emotions type of man. He liked to laugh, have a good time, and didn’t take much seriously. He wasn’t a party boy like some of his friends – he was a lot darker and more aloof than they were – but he could definitely be a clown and always knew how to make me laugh. But he was never the kind of guy you’d sit around discussing your emotions with. That just wasn’t Braxton.

  This is apparently a new facet to the man I once knew sitting before me. This sensitive, caring side of Braxton is unexpected and knocks me off balance. It again makes me wonder whether or not he’s got somebody in his life, a woman who’s helped nurture and develop this kinder, softer side to his personality. I can’t think he would have developed it on his own. It’s a thought that leads my gaze back to the picture of Braxton and the kid that might possibly be his son again.

  There’s a small piece of me that’s ready to throw open the floodgates and tell him my entire sob story. There’s a small piece of me that’s ready to invite him back into my life. I glance and don’t see a ring on his finger – though that might not actually mean anything. But it still ignites a small flicker of hope within me.

  I give myself a mental slap and quickly reel myself back in, knowing what dangerous ground I’m on right now. I quickly quash the hope that’s smoldering in my breast, knowing I’m teetering on the edge between the emotion and desire I still feel for him and my more grounded, practical, and logical side that knows just how big of a disaster it would be to let him in. I need to listen to my head and not my heart. Or the lower parts of my anatomy, for that matter.

  If I plan on achieving the goals I’m laying out for myself; I need this job and all the benefits that will come with it. Which means I need to keep myself in check.

  “I appreciate the offer, Braxton,” I say softly. “But I’m just here to do a job.”

  He purses his lips and looks at me. I can see that he wants to object but is holding himself back. Maybe he knows how complicated this can get if we blur the lines between employer and employee, and what a massive mess it can make.

  “Let me just say that I am grateful to you for this opportunity,” I fill the silence between us. “I really am. But I think it’s best if we keep this on a strictly professional level.”

  He sighs, and I can see the disappointment etched into his features. But I think even he realizes that it’s probably for the best. This is his company. He has to be an effective leader – something he can’t do with a bunch of relationship drama tearing it down.

  “Strictly professional, huh?” he says softly.

  “I think it’s probably for the best,” I confirm. “Don’t you?”

  He nods his agreement, and I feel a lead weight drop straight into the pit of my stomach. I just hope the disappointment I’m feeling isn’t showing on my face.

  “Yeah, probably,” he murmurs.

  I know it’s the smart thing to do. I’ve got too much going on and too much to straighten out in my life. I need to focus on getting myself back on track and work on recovering from the devastation my father wrought upon my life.

  Maybe if I were in a different place right now, I might entertain the idea of letting Braxton back into my life. Maybe. But I am where I am, and because I’m in this place, I can’t afford to let myself even consider the notion of exploring this thing that obviously still exists between us. And that unnamed thing that still exists between us is also why I can’t let myself even be friends with him. Why I have to keep things on a strictly professional footing. It’s all too easy to go from being friends to letting yourself become something more.

  Of course, I might be jumping the gun on all of this and making some terrible assumptions, since everything I thought I knew could be all wrong. I assumed he was still
into me when he showed up at my mom’s house the other night. But now, after seeing the picture of him and the teenage boy, I’m second guessing myself. For all I know, he’s married or has a girlfriend – and a kid on top of that.

  I have no idea exactly how I feel. Let alone how he feels. Like I said, I’m a hot mess right now. Being in the same room with him again – something I never thought would happen – has thrown me for an absolute loop, and it’s screwing with my head. I can’t think straight, and my feelings are about as easy to get a grip on as a herd of cats.

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I need to focus on one thing at a time. Compartmentalize and prioritize. I need to fall back on the tricks I used when I was running the London office and got stressed out. The things that kept me sane. Somehow, being around Braxton again has frazzled my mind so badly, I’ve forgotten those things.

  Well, it’s time to get my head back on straight.

  “Okay well, why don’t you head down to HR. I think you need to fill out some paperwork down there,” he says, the lightness in his voice sounding entirely forced. “And after that, have Stephanie take you on a tour of the place. She can guide you to your team’s pod and your office inside that pod.”

  I give him a firm nod. “Got it.”

  Braxton holds my gaze for a long moment, and I can see that he’s doing his best to control his own emotions and not let his facial expressions betray him. He gives me a smile.

  “For whatever it’s worth, it really is nice to see you again,” he tells me. “And I’m glad to have you here with us.”

  “Thank you for the opportunity, Braxton,” I respond. “I’m glad to be here.”

  I walk out of his office and immediately feel more in control of myself and my emotions. Even after all this time, that man has a way of stirring up a whirlwind of crap inside of me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Braxton

  I disconnect the call and am idly scrolling through some emails. It’s still so strange to me to see Chloe’s name sitting in my inbox, but I like it. It’s been a few weeks or so since I hired Chloe, and I have to say, it’s working out even better than I anticipated. She’s an intelligent woman, and I saw some of her designs from her school days, so I knew she was talented as well. I had a good idea of the kind of employee I’d be getting in Chloe. But she’s managed to exceed my expectations.

  The fact that she gets under Curtis’ skin as efficiently as she does is an added bonus.

  She’s managed to integrate herself into the team seamlessly, and in that short span of time, already has people looking to her as a leader. I imagine it’s a combination of Curtis’ ineptitude as a team lead combined with her experience handling the entire office in London for her father, but she’s impressing everybody and has them coming to her to solve problems.

  For his part, Curtis is doing what he can to minimize her role and lessen the impact she’s having on his team. I should probably step in and put an end to that, but honestly, I’m kind of curious to see how she handles it. So far, she’s handled herself well, and I have a feeling as she grows in confidence, she’s going to be even more assertive and competent than she already is. With the trajectory she’s on already, I don’t think it’s going to take too long for her to be ready to lead a team of her own.

  That should burn Curtis’ ass plenty. Not that I’d promote her to team lead just to get one over on the guy. And I’m not going to promote her just because of our history together. One lesson my father taught me that’s stuck all these years is that you earn what you get. Nothing is ever given to you. Chloe is off to an excellent start, but she’s still got a lot to prove.

  The one thing that’s been totally unexpected is that over these last few weeks, things between Chloe and I have thawed somewhat. Oh, our new working arrangement started off icy enough, and I wouldn’t exactly call us BFFs right now, but much of the tension that marked those early days has faded. Somewhat, anyway.

  A kind of comfortable ease has formed between us, and while it’s nowhere near what we used to be, at least now we can laugh and joke with each other. I consider that a step in the right direction. It gives me some small measure of hope that eventually, the ice will melt entirely, and we can find a way back to what we used to be. Right now, she’s still keeping me at an arm’s distance, but maybe someday in the not too distant future, that will change.

  As if thinking about her summoned her, Chloe knocks on my office door. She smiles at me, and I wave her in. She pushes through the door and walks in, dropping down into the chair in front of my desk. She’s dressed in a white pantsuit with a blue blouse beneath the jacket and is wearing her midnight black hair up. She looks every inch the professional woman. Despite myself, I find it incredibly sexy. It gives me all kinds of naughty librarian fantasies.

  Not wanting Chloe to pick up on the fact that I’m sitting here fantasizing about her, I quickly stuff it all down and try to focus on work and nothing but work. I run through blueprints as well as budget figures in my head – anything to stop my cock from getting even harder in my pants than it already is.

  “Looks like you’re keeping yourself busy,” she notes with a grin.

  I shrug. “Hey, it’s why I have employees,” I tell her. “You do all the work while I get all the credit. That’s the way it works, right?”

  She laughs softly. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

  Silence falls between us for a moment I sit back in my seat, fighting the urge to let my eyes roam her body as I struggle to suppress the memories of what she looks like naked. I’m having a hell of a hard time keeping my mind on professional matters and not letting it drift to the personal history between us. I break eye contact and clear my throat – and can’t help but notice the small smirk touching her lips. As if she knows exactly what’s going through my head.

  “Anyway,” I say. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, I sent you an email,” she offers.

  “Oh right. I just didn’t get to it yet.”

  “Too busy staring off into space, huh?

  I chuckle. “I was actually thinking up the solutions to the complex issues this company faces,” I explain. “I was brainstorming –”

  “By yourself?”

  “It was a preliminary brainstorming session that I was going to bring up with the team leads soon.”

  She laughs, her smile lighting up her whole face. In that moment, she looks like she did on that last night in Hyde Park – young, innocent, and with far fewer cares than she’s carrying around on her shoulders these days.

  “Well since you didn’t see fit to read my email –”

  I hold up a finger. “I just haven’t gotten to it yet. There’s a big difference.”

  She grins. “Anyway, I wanted to bring this to you directly because Curtis has made it clear I’m there to watch, listen, and nothing more.”

  “So you’re going over his head by coming to me.” A statement, not a question.

  She purses her lips and then nods. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

  My father believed that assigning teams to work on individual projects was a more efficient way of doing business and made the company more efficient overall since it provided a clear chain of command with the designers reporting to a team lead, and the team leads reporting to me. It freed him up – just as it frees me up – to tackle only the biggest problems rather than all the problems, and it also allows me to focus more on client acquisition.

  That business model requires absolute trust in the team leads to make the right decisions on the fly, only bringing problems to me they can’t find solutions to. It’s something that’s a problem every now and then – primarily with Curtis – but for the most part, it’s highly efficient. My dad was right. Overall things run a lot smoother with the company structured this way than if I’m trying to oversee all the different teams on my own.

  It doesn’t happen often, but I don’t typically like it when designers bypass their team leads and bring things to me direc
tly. In fact, it’s something I actively discourage. Respecting the chain of command is a must, otherwise, projects get bogged down, and we’re less efficient as a whole. So when somebody bypasses their team’s chain of command, I have to figure out if it’s a power play or if there’s a legitimate problem within a given team that needs to be addressed. In this case, coming from Curtis’ team, I’m positive it’s the latter of those two things.

  “Okay, so what’s up?” I ask.

  She looks around as if she expects to see Curtis standing at the floor to ceiling glass that makes up the front wall of my office staring at her. Of course, given how paranoid and insecure he’s been since Chloe started, it wouldn’t surprise me to see him there either. But we’re alone.

  “Well Curtis has me doing the grunt work and has cut me out of the loop on the Lyman project all together. He’s still intent on doing the design himself,” she starts. “So he has me doing things like returning calls and correspondence. Just the shit work.”

  I purse my lips. “I was afraid of that,” I say. “Okay, I’ll speak with –”

  “Hang on, there’s more,” she cuts me off. “I ended up fielding a call from Mr. Lyman about a week ago. We’ve actually spoken a couple more times since that first call.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nods. “We have. We’ve talked about some of the details and his vision for this project. He outlined some of the things he wants in a finished product,” she tells me. “And then I started comparing it to some of Curtis’ initial designs.”

  I sigh. “Let me guess; the two things have almost nothing in common with one another.”

  She taps her nose and grins. “Bingo.”

  “Shit,” I grumble. “I’ve been through this with him already, and I thought he was on the right path.”

  “Yeah, I found the initial phase one design you approved this morning,” she tells me. “He’s kind of putting his own spin on things.”