Free Romance: The Boss by Lara West Page B

then.
     
     
     

Chapter Five
     
     
     

 
     
     
    An exclusive Roman Baths day spa package, a bouquet of pink and yellow tulips, a ridiculously expensive bottle of Gucci perfume, and a vintage painting from the high-end gallery that I had waited at only a few weeks ago.
    That is what I got Delilah Townsend from her doting billionaire son.
    I am somewhat stressed out by the fact that he may not approve of any of these gifts, but I literally couldn’t think of anything else off the top of my head.
    Except maybe a fur coat, but I didn’t know her size.
    Or a leather handbag, but I didn’t know her style.
    Crap…maybe I should’ve called him and asked.
    But then again, why didn’t he suggest it?
    Great, I’m standing outside his apartment door, listening to his footsteps slowly approaching and thinking that he’s going to blow a gasket on my ass for my shoddy decision-making.
    “Lauren,” he greets warmly, cutting a smile a mile wide. “Please come in.”
    “Thank you.”
    I wait until he closes the door behind me before I follow him into the apartment.
    We walk down a short hallway that soon opens up to a huge open-plan living space.
    And by huge, I mean the complete, wow-factor commandeering of my attention.
    In front of me, stretched horizontally across the entire apartment, are eight ceiling-to-floor windows displaying the glittering flanks of Manhattan, with the now-dark Central Park being at the very center of the architect’s design.
    As I step forward in reverence, I begin to imagine how much more spectacular this view would be in the daylight, like something out of a dream and far beyond the average person’s salary.
    So this is how the wealthy and powerful live?
    Nice.
    Very nice.
    And depressing.
    Suddenly my salary doesn’t seem too impressive.
    “It’s a pretty incredible thing to look at, huh?” he remarks, walking over to the stainless steel kitchen on the far left. He places two wine glasses on the frosted marble countertop and opens a bottle of red wine.
    “I…yes. The view is jaw-dropping, literally,” I splutter, taking a few more steps into the room.
    “What makes you think I was referring to the view?”
    I blush and put the gifts down on the long, meteor-gray dining table in front of the kitchen.
    “So, uh, I got your mom a few things,” I say, ignoring his question. “I hope they’re adequate. I, ah, went all over town to—”
    “I’m sure they’re fine,” he states, bringing over the two glasses now filled with wine. “Here, have a drink with me.”
    Do I have a choice? It sure doesn’t feel like it.
    “Okay,” I reply, taking it from him.
    “But don’t drop it. That’s pure Austrian crystal you’re holding.”
    I stare at him vacuously, clenching the glass harder in my hand. Is he being serious?
    “I’m kidding, Lauren. Relax,” he muses. “If you do happen to break it, it’s all right: I have plenty more.”
    Ha, good for him.
    “I hope you like red,” he then adds offhandedly, walking over to the first of two black lounges by the windows.
    “I do.”
    “Excellent.”
    I continue to stand by the dining table, unsure of whether to take a seat by him or linger closer to the exit. I just came here to drop off the gifts. I have no idea why he wants me to stay and have a drink with him.
    “Lauren, come and sit. Tell me more about yourself,” he says commandingly, easing down on the lounge.
    I hate how imperial he is, how everything always seems to be executed at his will and his will alone.
    Yet at the same time I don’t want to displease him, so I go along with it.
    But why should I care so much if I displease him?
    He’s my boss.
    It’s bound to happen sooner or later.
    But the way I feel when he looks at me, when he’s not having a good day at the office or is clearly rattled by something, is more than a PA should be feeling.
    If I’m being honest with myself, I think that night we first met is influencing me as the days go on. I’ve seen a