Boss Me (Private Listing #3)

“I will.” Anna smiles. “Don’t stay a stranger. We should do lunch sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

Anna was always nice to me. Never treated me like the help.

“Talk Monday, Coop,” Patrick bites out.

Coop leads me back toward the table. His brow furrows like he’s thinking through something.

“What’s on your mind?” I tilt my head as I look up at him.

He stares over my shoulder toward Patrick and Anna. “How long did you babysit for them?”

I glance their way. They stopped at another couple and Anna talks animatedly while Patrick looks bored.

“About a year. It was good money, but then I got internships to help cover bills and get experience.” I lift my gaze to Coop’s. “Why?”

“You met Patrick during that time? He knew your name? You talked to him?”

“Occasionally. Mostly I dealt with Anna. Sometimes Patrick would get home first or take me home.” I step closer to Coop. “What is it?”

“He didn’t seem to know you when we did the background check. When he was in the office and the dress came in, he acted like didn’t recognize you.”

A shiver races down my spine. I didn’t even know he was there that day. That box is etched in my brain, but I shake it off. “I’m not surprised. Anna had to remind him who I was just now. To him, I was the help and that’s all.”

“Hmm.” His hand falls on my lower back. “Something is nagging at me.”

I let him stew as we weave our way back to our table. Dessert has arrived and it’s a chocolate cheesecake. Coop helps me into my seat before the lights dim and the speaker begins. His hand curls around my thigh and strokes my leg under the table.

I can’t focus on what the presenters say. As I eat my dessert, Coop strokes the inside of my thigh, getting closer and closer to my aching center. The lure of a darkened corner where he could play with me more beckons me.

My eyes lock with Seth’s and I bite my lip. His focus drops to my mouth. Heat sparks in his eyes and I hope no one else notices, because I want him to watch me. I want Seth to tell Coop and me what to do until we shatter.

It won’t happen here though. Not with Seth at least. I lean in to Coop and press my lips to his ear.

“Coop?” His name is barely a breath, but he slides his hand higher. “Please.”

The audience breaks out in applause. Coop turns his darkened light blue eyes to mine. Whatever he sees is enough. When everyone rises to applaud whoever did what, Coop takes my hand and draws me away from the table. I glance back and meet Seth’s hungry eyes.

If we were home, I would reach out my hand and ask him to join us. But my gaze skips to Elizabeth clapping next to him, and my chest tightens. I close my eyes as I turn away from him.

Coop tucks me into his side as we make our way through the tables. A familiar face flashes into my view. For a second, I can’t place where I know him, but then it registers. My literature professor, Mr. Jimi Alan. I flinch a little as he flashes me a sloppy smile, like he’s had one too many.

He made it obvious that he wouldn’t mind helping me with some personal, one-on-one tutoring. I had an A in his class, but he kept offering. I try to find him in the crowd again.

But Coop pulls me through a door. This must be an employee-only area. It’s a long hallway with carts and racks along the sides.

“Are we supposed to be back here?” I whisper.

“Not here.” Coop leads me down the hallway until we reach another door. Opening it, he ushers me through.

“Where are we going?” The door shuts behind us. We’re in a part of the museum that is dimly lit and clearly not part of the actual event. The clinking of silverware and glasses no longer fills the air. Just silence and the light clicking of my heels on the marble floor surround us.

“My family donated the money for this wing. A lot of the furniture and artwork came from our personal collection.”

My eyes widen as I take in the grandeur of the items. From gorgeously carved wooden tables topped with marble to priceless vases, the amount of wealth in this hallway staggers me. We had a few “antiques” at our house, but nothing on this scale. Ours were plain in comparison.

Coop slows and turns me to face a painting of a nude woman. She faces away from us, stretched out on a chaise. Tucking me against his front, he rests his chin on my shoulder. “My grandmother had this commissioned.”