Boss Me Good (Boss Me #1) Read Free

a gentleman and won’t look inside. Surely he would respect my privacy, right?
    Plus, there’s still the chance he left before I did, and if I get in early enough tomorrow, I can reclaim my journal before anyone knows about its existence.
    Part of me is tempted to drive all the way back just to get it, but I convince myself to stay put. It’s just after nine PM. There’s no way he’s still in the office—since I’ve started working for him, we’ve never been there that late, as he often opts to take work home with him and finish up there. I’m being paranoid. Besides, my building pass won’t work to let me back in after six PM, so I can’t sneak in anyway.
    The die has been cast, and I just have to hope that everything’s safe.

    T hat night in bed , I lie awake for hours until sleep’s seductive pull finally tugs me under. The last thing I imagine is Dane’s face, disgust and disappointment deep in his eyes over what he read in my journal. Right before he fires me from my job.

Two

Dane
    “ E mme ,” I holler as I carry a filled-to-the-brim mug of plain black coffee, turning the corner to head back to my office. “Will you bring the specs for the Sanderson remodel?” I blink when I see her desk is empty.
    Did she leave? I didn’t tell her she could go.
    I bite back my sudden flash of frustration and glance at my watch. It’s already well after eight. I didn’t mean to stay at work this long; time slipped away from me while I had my head buried in design work. Still, it’s not like her to leave without a note, especially since I didn’t dismiss her for the day. Maybe there’s a message for me on her desk.
    My dress shoes clack across the tiled floor as I stop in front of her tidy work area. The lamp is still on, and there’s a red, leather bound book sitting on a stack of papers. I push it aside and see the Sanderson paperwork right on top. My mug of coffee is put down so I can scoop up the papers.
    My eyes are drawn back to that red book. What is it? Did she leave some of her homework behind? I flip it open to a random page.

    w alked in yesterday wearing a pair of black pants that molded to his ass…and huge package. I couldn’t stop staring at him. I thought he busted me in the afternoon looking at his crotch when he got up from his desk, but I don’t think he did. Close call, whew!

    I blink in surprise , pausing. Is this…a diary? Innocent, sweet-faced Emme Williams, writing about checking out some guy’s dick? Something about the shock of that realization makes my own dick stir, even as my stomach gives an uneasy surge.
    I should stop. This isn’t any of my business, and clearly it’s personal. Some niggling part of my conscience pokes at me, tells me I should walk away and pretend I never saw this diary.
    But ignoring things didn’t get me where I am now.
    Plus, she left it on her desk, where anyone could pick it up and look inside. Who’s the guy she’s talking about? Someone at school? Could very well be…or a coworker here.
    A mental image of her hunching over the journal, writing about some asshole in the office, soft brown curls falling over her brow as she tucks a strand behind her ear with her slender fingers, makes my chest tight. I shouldn’t care that she has a crush on someone. She’s my assistant, for fuck’s sake. She’s barely twenty-five, still in grad school, quiet and polite, practically fresh off the farm. Totally not my type.
    None of that keeps me from grabbing the journal and adding it to the top of the Sanderson paperwork. I tell my conscience to shut the hell up and slam my office door behind me.
    I manage to focus on my work for another good half hour, but the red journal keeps drawing my attention. All her secrets, right there and ripe for the plucking.
    What do I know about Emme, other than she’s a hard worker? She’s in grad school for business administration after getting a Bachelor’s in interior design. She’s small and curvy, with a mess of