Megan Hart - Switch

rapidly, and then her mouth quirked into a grudging smile.

We understood each other the way women do and men

never wil.

"They're having a great sale at Neiman Marcus next week.

I'm on their preferred buyers mailing list and got a

postcard about it," she offered.

"Thanks. I'l check it out." I waited until she'd gone before putting my letter in Eric's mailbox.

When I had, I leaned for a moment against the wal, my

breath whistling through parted lips. Beneath the skirt she'd

so admired, I wore lacy, silky lingerie. Sexy things to make

me feel pretty al day, and to remind me of what I intended

to happen later. As if I could forget, I thought with a secret

smile I kept with me al day.

Paul noticed it. The smile, not the panties, which rubbed

me deliciously each time I crossed or uncrossed my legs.

He stood over my desk with a sheaf of files in his hands,

but he waited until I looked up to acknowledge him rather

than simply addressing me the way he had in the past.

Oh, how so much had changed in so short a time!

"You look nice today," he said.

In this era of sexual-harassment suits, in a time where I'm

an executive assistant and not a secretary because of some

misbegotten notion that a title means more than the job

itself, his compliment wasn't realy appropriate. I leaned

back in my chair to give him a nice long look at my legs as

I crossed them high at the knee. And he looked, Paul did,

without pretending he didn't.

"What do you need, Paul?"

He offered the files. "These have to go out today."

I didn't take them. Power thriled through me as he set

them on the desk but didn't go. Was this a dangerous

game? I didn't think it was so risky. I didn't even count it

as flirtation, realy. I had no intention of fucking my boss.

Of becoming my mother.

"Al right."

We stared at each other. Paul cleared his throat and

rocked on his heels a bit. I took the files and set them in a

tidy pile in front of me to show him I would, indeed, get to

them. Not at that instant, and I wasn't jumping through

hoops to do it, but it would happen.

"Paige, there's something else I'd like to talk to you about."

I studied him for a second, trying to gauge what it could be

about, then nodded. "Sure. What about?"

"Can you come into my office in about ten minutes?"

He asked as though he was afraid I'd say no, even though

technicaly we both knew I didn't have a choice.

"Absolutely."

"Thanks." He'd always been polite, but he was nearly

dancing now with some hidden anxiety.

There were many things I knew about my boss, some I'd

known from the start and others I'd learned only over time.

When it al came down to it, though, I liked Paul very

much. Whatever had his garters snapping, it was going to

make it impossible for him to get some work done until it

was resolved.

"Go get yourself a mug of coffee," I told him. "I'l send off these reports and see you in ten minutes."

I hadn't given him permission, and it was nothing he

couldn't have decided for himself, but the relief in his eyes

at my suggestion made me glad I'd made it. I flipped

through the reports while he poured his coffee and made

some notes about what needed to be sent where, then

ducked down the hal to visit the restroom then make

some copies so I could be back in time to meet with him.

He sat in a familiar slouch at his desk when I pushed open

He sat in a familiar slouch at his desk when I pushed open

his door, but he turned his attention immediately to me.

"Paige, hi. Would you sit down, please?"

I did, and watched his gaze flicker over my bared knees as

I crossed my legs. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Nothing's wrong. I just…wanted to talk to you."

I waited. Paul drew in a breath and pushed back in his

chair to run a hand over the top of his head. He'd taken off

his suit jacket, but his tie was as snug to his throat as if it

had grown there. He cleared his throat, and I waited

another ten seconds for him to speak.

"It's about your performance."

I sat up a little straighter. "Yes?"

"It's past time for your first review."

I understood that. Kely Printing, like most companies,

gave annual reviews, but they also had an introductory

probation period for al new employees. They'd told me

about it when they hired me. Six months into the new job,

you could be out on your ass if you didn't live up to

expectations. It was hard to believe I'd been here that

long. It felt more like forever, actualy.

Again, I waited for him to speak. That was the thing with

Paul. He took his time with talk. I thought it was because

each word that came from him had to mean something,

like he had to weigh their worth before he said them.

Unlike writing, you can't scratch out speech. Once it's

said, there's nothing you can do to erase it.

"I just wanted you to know I'l be giving you the highest

ratings, that's al. And recommending you for advanced

training."

My pleased smile sat oddly on my face, which had been

expecting to frown. "Realy? Great. Thanks, Paul."

He seemed a little more at ease once he'd told me, though

his fingers stil toyed nervously with his pen. He roled it

onto the edge of the blotter, then off. It hit the desk with a

sharp click.

"You're welcome. I've been very pleased with your work."

"I've enjoyed working with you."

He nodded a bit and focused his attention on the pen.

"There are some opportunities available in-house. A good

recommendation could…um…lead the way to some of

them."

This was interesting news I wasn't sure how to process.

"Like what?"

"Promotion opportunities."

I read the buletin boards in the hal by the office mail every

day. I saw the internal-job postings along with the memos

on company policy and announcements about the holiday

parties and picnics. Nothing there had caught my eye or

sent me into spasms of excitement. I'd never considered

applying for any of them. I stil intended to get my MBA

when they'd chip in to pay for it.

"Such as?" I leaned forward.

"They're looking for someone to start in a new entry-level

marketing position in Vivian Darcy's department."

"And if I don't want to work for Vivian?"

For a moment, Paul looked pleased before he smoothed

For a moment, Paul looked pleased before he smoothed

his features into studied neutrality. "It's something to think

about. You can't be an assistant forever, Paige."

That was certainly true, and I was touched he cared

enough to think so. "I don't plan to be."

"This could be a good chance for you," he said.

And that was true, too. So why did we both look so sad?

I knew from Eric's schedule that he'd be home around

eight o'clock today. I gave him half an hour for dinner,

another fifteen minutes for a shower. If he was as eager as

I was to folow the instructions I'd left him, it wouldn't be

more than that.

The black trench coat I wore wasn't meant to make me

look like a pervert, though that's what I felt like as I

entered the parking garage. I'd picked it to help

camouflage me in the shadows, but I had toyed with the

idea of going naked beneath it. I ended up putting on black

jogging pants and a black T-shirt instead, not bold enough

to go bare. I might have had I had a note teling me to do

it, I thought with a smile as I climbed the second flight of