“That’s insane. I can’t believe you’re working for him.”

“Me neither.”

She was quiet for a moment, and then she said with great curiosity, “So are you like… comfortable around him?”

What a weird question to ask.

“Um, I guess. Why?”

“Like comfortable enough that you’d ask him for some VIP passes?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed shortly. “Are you serious right now?”

“Just ask! That’s all I’m saying. Ask. I hear the VIP area goes crazy at his club, and since you’re all relaxed with him, maybe he’ll let us all in.”

I tapped a finger against my chin, thinking. “What do you mean ‘us’?”

“You’re obviously coming with me. I miss you. Don’t say no either. Not happening.”

Hmm. Could I really go out after the last disastrous incident, at the same club to boot?

But I felt fine at the idea. Maybe it was because I knew the club inside and out. I knew the people, knew Borden – which was the most important thing of all – and it was familiar to me.

“I know a hot guy,” she sang. “And you’ll totally love him. He’s so funny, and hot. Did I mention that already?”

“Alright,” I said before my brain could stop me with its logical bullshit, because brains were overrated. “I’ll let you know the asshole’s answer tomorrow.”

She squealed. I cringed in nerves.

How well this would go was dependent on what mood he was going to be in.

*

“The fuck you looking at, doll?”

His voice startled me and I jumped in my chair that was swivelled in his direction.

I didn’t reply. I nervously clasped my hands and looked at my screen for several long moments, and then back at Borden’s profile as he was leaning over the desk, signing his ridiculously nice signature on some documents.

How long does it take to master a nice signature anyway? Do you sit there for hours and squiggle away until it looks good? Or do –

“Am I fucking dying of leprosy or something?” he barked.

My jaw dropped. “What?”

He looked down at his hands and then at me. “I’ve got all my fingers. No leprosy here. So why the fuck are you looking at me so much?”

I felt stiff as a rod. I opened my mouth and then shut it again.

Sure I was comfortable around him, but it was only because we’d fallen into a routine. We didn’t speak all that much. I knew him mostly through observation, not through communication, and these were two vastly different things.

“Leprosy isn’t fatal,” I found myself saying.

He blinked and then looked at me like I was a moron. “What?”

“You said ‘am I dying of leprosy?’ Leprosy isn’t fatal, so…” I gulped and turned away from him, awkwardly clicking my mouse on the tabs on my screen.

After a few moments I peeked at him. He was still staring at me. Staring hard with his brows furrowed and his mouth ajar. A “what the fuck” look still accompanied his face.

“You got something stuck up your ass, Lynne?” he asked in all seriousness.

I shook my head in equal seriousness. “Nothing is stuck up my ass.”

“Then what the hell is your problem today? You keep looking at me like I’m going to smite you down. I’m tempted to now that you’re going around in circles instead of answering me.”

I licked my lips and paused. Because now his eyes were on my lips and his face went weird. He turned away for a second and then back at me. And my lips.

“Talk to me,” he demanded.

Out of nervousness, I went to lick my lips again –

“Stop licking those lips right now.” His eyes darkened with his words.

My chest tightened at the strain in his voice as he regarded my mouth like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

Okay, this was just awkward now.

“My friend wants to come to the club tonight,” I blurted out without thought, otherwise we’d be here all day.

“Good for your friend,” he replied blankly.

“She… We want to know if we could have some VIP passes…” I cleared my throat and clumsily ran my hand through my hair. Then I splayed my hair out so that it blocked him from seeing my profile.

It was quiet for a minute. Literally it was a minute. Not like an exaggerated form of a minute when people say they’ve taken a minute… I seriously stared at the clock and watched it tick an entire bloody minute.

I glanced at him quickly.

“I’m not going to bite you, for fuck’s sake,” he said in exasperation. “Look at me right now.”

I swivelled my chair to him again and slowly looked up at him. He was wearing casual clothes today: grey slim-fit sweater, black pants, no watch, no hair slickening – just normal Mr Borden with his unkempt hair. I liked him this way because he was usually laid back when he came to work casually dressed. He still made my heart thump, more so than the time he kissed me, and just thinking about it made me wonder why he never did it again.

“Come here.”

I took a few breaths and wondered why he wanted me closer to him. I stood up and hesitantly took a few steps to him. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at me as I approached him. Those blue eyes scanned my face and then dropped down to my legs before climbing back up again.

My face heated, and I tried to act normal – really, I did – but I knew I was failing miserably.

“You really want those VIP passes?” he asked in a low voice.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He brought his pen to his face and thoughtfully tapped it against the corner of his mouth. Distractedly, I looked at his lips where his pen was nearly touching and stifled the urge to gulp. The damn bully had really nice big lips.

“Two kisses instead of one,” he finally said. “One on each side. Now.”

Was that all? Ha! Score. Pecking him on his cheek five times a week was a ritual and impersonal. I didn’t even hesitate to do it anymore – no matter how unprofessional it was.

I went to the side of him and bent to his cheeks. His eyes followed mine as I lowered myself, and he never did that. He never watched me kiss him. He was usually concentrating on something else, never on me.

My chest tightened in nerves as I pressed my lips briefly on his cheek. I pulled away and slowly made my way to the other side of him since he wasn’t going to move his head. My body shook slightly and I felt a little wobbly in the knees. Why was he looking at me? I didn’t want him to look at me!