Autumn - In Love With My Boss (An Office Romance)| Completed

Chapter 25 - Autumn

Have you ever felt like you were in a complete daze? Your mind can't function properly, it can just focus on the one thing that brought you into this hazy sleepwalking state in the first place? Yes? Well, then you know how I feel right now. There is so much paperwork piled up on my desk, which I have to finally work through - but I can't. I'm just sitting here, staring into space, listening to the echo in my head. Misses Fiona Marlow.

He is married. My boss is freaking married. All that time I thought he was single. Well, apparently I wasn't the only one. I doubt that anyone in this company knows about his wife; he never mentioned her, not even once. Hell, he doesn't even wear a ring.

He should have told me. He should have told me when I kissed him. Or what about last night? Instead, he kept his mouth shut.

My head is killing me. Maybe it's the concussion. Or maybe it is the fact that the man of my dreams, who I was so close to just last night, has a wife. Well, maybe it's both. However, I can't work with a pounding head like that. So, I grab some Ibuprofen out of my purse and pop it into my mouth, then flush it down with a big gulp of water from the bottle I always keep on my desk.

"Do you not feel well?" His smooth voice startles me and I spill quite a bit of liquid on my shirt. "I thought you said you were better."

I swallow the water along with the pill, my heart pounding like crazy. Shush, you idiot heart, nothing to get worked up over. In case you missed it, my boss is a liar.

"I'm fine," I snarl, coughing a little.

"Really?" With his long, lean finger he points at the pill container next to my keyboard. "You sure?"

I nod without looking at him; the water bottle in my hand is a welcome distraction.

"Just a minor headache. Anything I can help you with today, Mr. Marlow?"

The silence that stretches out between us becomes so uncomfortable that I finally dare to raise my eyes to his. And I immediately regret it. Cramp. No, it's more like a sting, right in the middle of my chest, the region of my heart.

His eyes are so blue, so piercing, as cold and clear as ice, and yet, so beautiful and captivating that, for a moment, I forget about my encounter earlier with his bitchy wife . But it is only a fleeting moment, and I'm right back to hating him. Oh yes, I hate him. I hate him for being dishonest, for not telling me about his spouse, for playing games with me and leading me on; but most of all I hate him for still having that much power over my emotions. I hate him for doing this to me. Yes, I do, don't give me that smug smile of yours, that "Sure, whatever you say"-smile. I do hate him.

He's still staring at me with a frown that casts a gloomy shadow over his usually light eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" he finally murmurs.

"Everything is fine, Sir," I say as professionally as possible in that situation.

"Clearly," he hisses loudly, making me jump a little. "There is something wrong." He carefully regards my Ibuprofen again. "Don't think I'm stupid. You dismissed yourself from the hospital, didn't you?"

His tone is very firm so I don't dare coming up with a fabricated story about the doctors sending me home.

"I did," I admit quietly.

"And why would you do that?" He sounds upset, angry even.

"I don't like hospitals."

Yeah, I guess that is not the best explanation. I mean, who does like hospitals, right? There is way too much suffering, way too much pain and far too much white involved.

Mr. Marlow narrows his eyes in annoyance. "Why did you lie to me?"

Ugh, what? I'm so baffled I don't know how to respond. I lied to him? Well, I did, but it was just a little, tiny white lie. Compared to his lie mine is so itty bitty that it doesn't even count as one. But yes, he doesn't know that I know about his dishonesty, so he feels like he can call me out on mine.

Oh dear Lord, has it come to this? The whole I-know-he-doesn't-know-that-I-know,

he-said-she-said crap? I'm such a girly girl.

"You did, too," I begin to explain, and I'm surprised at how calm I am all of a sudden. My eyes are locked with his and I can tell he is confused.

"Your wife," I continue, "had a lot to say about this earlier this morning."

His eyes grow wide and just as he is about to respond, the phone rings.

I hold his gaze as I casually lift the receiver to answer, but inside I'm trembling, I'm completely shaken up. In some way I'm glad I don't have to hear his explanation, his excuse, or whatever it was he was going to lay on me. I don't want to deal with it now, I can't. I'm too disappointed and hurt.

"Mr. Marlow's office, this is Autumn Lewis." I sound like a robot.

"Hello little ice dancer." The voice on the other end is friendly and somehow seems familiar, but I cannot remember where I heard it before.

"Uhm..." I stutter at that casual greeting, which completely takes me by surprise. "I'm sorry... Who is this?"

"It's Cody," the voice replies with no little disappointment as I still show no sign of recognition. "The guy from the sporting goods store? I was hoping you'd give me a call but I didn't hear from you so I thought maybe you lost my number or something. And I remembered where you work so I just called the reception and asked for you."

I'm so embarrassed. Cody, of course! I forgot all about my promise to call him!

"I hope that was okay?" he inquires hesitantly.

"Sure!" I spurt out, maybe a little too enthusiastically. "Sure, I'm glad you called!"

Am I really? A little hard to say with those steely blue eyes questioningly glued on me.

"Great!" He sighs in relief. "Well, I was just wondering if you were still up for a skating lesson."

"I'm always up for skating," I answer truthfully, as my boss's gaze grows more intense, burrowing right through me.

I can almost physically grasp his increasing impatience.

"Awesome. Why don't we meet then tonight at the rink in downtown? Say, seven o'clock?"

"That sounds great, Cody. I'll meet you there."

"Perfect. Okay, but now I'll leave you to your work. I bet your boss will be pissed if he notices you're having a private conversation during your work hours. And I have to get back, too. So, see you tonight."

If only Cody knew how right he was. Mr. Marlow is shooting daggers at me by now as I hang up.

"A date?" he asks frostily.

"Just a friend wanting some skating practice," I blurt out in defense and immediately want to slap myself. I don't owe him an explanation! What the hell is wrong with me?

"So, a date then," he concludes with such icy demeanor I instantly feel chills running through my body. He eyes me for a few more seconds before turning his back on me. "That would be all, Miss Lewis."

He walks away to his office but stops at the door, looking over his shoulder back at me.

"Oh, and Miss Lewis, don't forget the gala on Wednesday. I expect you to be ready by eight."

With that, he slams the door behind him.

Shit. The gala. How can I do this? Not enough that I made a complete fool out of myself by asking the man I've been secretly in love with for months and months and months to have sex with me; no, the very man who sent me such intimate text messages just last night didn't find it necessary to mention the fact that he is married and still doesn't feel compelled to react to my confrontation with his wife.

Wonderful. Just wonderful. How will I be able to survive that night? I guess I have until Wednesday to figure that out.