Page 27 of Boss from Hell

“Yeah. Why?”

“Nothing. Have a good evening.”

Then my hand sent a text to Lillian’s phone.

Don’t wear any underwear tomorrow.

Chapter 15

Lillian

"How’s the new job going?" my mother asked from the other end of the phone.

My phone was suspended between my ear and shoulder. One hand carried a bag of groceries and with the other, I struggled to insert the key into the door of my apartment. I should have let the call go to voicemail, except my mother had a tendency to worry if I didn't pick up my phone. It was easier to just answer, however inconvenient.

It couldn’t be worse than the flurry of text messages that would follow asking me if something was wrong. She would even go as far as asking if I was still alive. Maggie said it would drive her crazy, but I had no real problem with it. I understood my mother had gone through a lot—from my father dying the way he did to getting married and losing a second, albeit useless, husband in quick succession. Then getting close to losing everything, and having to depend on her daughter to pay her mortgage.

It was a lot for anybody to take and probably made the world a very scary place for her. I got the door open, entered,and dumped my shopping bag and purse on the small kitchen counter.

"Sorry, Mom, what did you say?" I asked as I turned on the coffee machine.

"I asked how the new job is going?"

My body instantly stiffened as memories of the day came over me. And that unexpected text from him, and the way my hand shook as I sent him my reply.

As long as you understand that you

can look but you cannot touch.

I was behaving so out of character I couldn’t even recognize myself. I could just imagine my mother's reaction if I told her the truth of how my day really went. She had worked as a professional office support worker all her life, and if she knew how unprofessional her daughter had been, she’d have been horrified and probably disgusted too.

Thinking about it now made me shake my head.

I had sat on my boss’s desk and let him eat me out. Who in their right mind did that? A voice in my head reminded me that it took two to tango. I reverted the accusation back to Mr. Frost. Which boss ordered his personal assistant to come to work without any underwear?

Heat and arousal whipped through me at the thought of obeying that text; it was wrong on all levels but my body craved him. Him eating me out on his desk had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened in my whole sheltered life. That orgasm almost made up for all the rudeness I’d endured at his hands.

"It went very well, Mom, better than I expected," I said, glad she couldn’t see my face.

A sigh of relief came over the phone. "Oh, I am so glad to hear that. I was worried when you told me you weren't very hopeful about it."

I repeated the lie I used on Maggie, "Mr. Frost has a bit of a reputation for being a difficult boss, but he’s not that bad. He’s just a perfectionist who expects the same level of dedication from everyone around him, but he hasn’t found fault with my work yet.” That last bit, at least, was true.

"I am so proud of you, Lillian," my mother gushed. "You always were a clever little thing. Maybe you should consider going back to college. You're too smart and have too much potential to be working as someone’s PA."

A sigh escaped my lips. We hadn’t had that discussion in a long time. My mother couldn't understand why my ambitions didn't extend further than being a personal assistant. Maybe she did understand, but she just didn’t want to acknowledge that I wasn't one of those women who were big on careers.

Once upon a time, I even dreamed of meeting Mr. Perfect, getting married, and filling a house with babies. Five to be exact. To many people, the idea was old-fashioned and daft, but to me, it was heaven on earth. There was nothing I wanted more.

And why not too? I had seen the kind of rock-solid marriage my mother and father had, and I wanted the same thing for myself. I wanted a man who would love me despite all my flaws. The way my father did my mother.

My mind stupidly went to Mr. Frost and I could have laughed at myself. He was the farthest thing from my dream husband. Mr. Frost was a lion—he’d eat you alive if you let him. That was one mistake I was not going to make. He could play with my body all he wanted, but that was all he was going to get—my body, not my heart or my devotion.

"Honey," my mother said, her voice tinged with caution. She was going where she knew not to. "I know how busy you are. Doyou want me to get some prospectuses from a few colleges for you?"

I fought down my irritation. I’d told my mother countless times that I didn’t want to go back to college. I loved my job, and all I needed was to settle into a PA role that I enjoyed. This one wasn’t it, but it was a stepping stone to other jobs.

"Mom, I can do it myself if I want. I'm fine with things the way they are," I muttered, trying my best to hide my impatience.