When Claire agreed to have dinner with Derek and Alex, it was so she could bring Mira’s crush back to the restaurant and watch her friend swoon once again. What she didn’t count on was how Alex’s sulky behavior made her think about just how kissable Alex’s pouting lips looked. Mira and Derek’s teasing comments only exacerbated Claire’s growing awareness of how attracted she was to her boss.

Then came the kiss. The kiss she didn’t back away from. The kiss that left a raw, humming silence in the narrow space between them and the car in the restaurant’s near-empty parking lot. Claire tasted the faint spice of noodles on her lips, a suddenly potent flavor that erased every reminder of professional caution. Her body tensed like a rubber band pulled tight enough to snap.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that!” She pulled away, forcing an immediate, panicked distance, her breath coming in short gasps. She spun around, ready to flee back into the restaurant, but Alex’s hands immediately found her waist, securing her against him.

“I’m not sorry,” Alex’s voice was low and strained. “Please, don’t run away,” he rasped, his words vibrating against her neck and sending chills down her back.

Unconsciously, Claire sunk back into his chest, gently holding his arms as they wrapped possessively around her. “Alex, I…” her voice trailed into uncertainty.

His grip tightened, a promise and a demand. “Stay with me tonight. Let me take you to my place.”

Claire pushed away and turned to face him, shock entering her eyes. The reality of their situation slammed into her, cold and sharp, eclipsing the heat of the kiss.

“Oh, my gosh, Alex, how could you ask that?” she whispered desperately. “You’re my boss, Alex. What do you think our coworkers will say if they find out?” She could already feel the icy judgment and hear the whispers already circulating about getting her job through her "connections to the boss." Everything she worked for—her career, her plan to help her mother—began to melt before her eyes.

Alex held her tighter, close enough that she could feel the frantic rhythm of his heart against her hand that rested on his chest. “Claire, I’ve had feelings for you since high school,” he confessed, his voice husky with affection. "If you had given me a chance back then, would this still be an issue? It wouldn’t, right? Since everyone would already know we were together?”

“But that isn’t what happened,” she whispered desperately, the tears she tried to suppress beginning to sting her eyes. They were suddenly teenagers again, standing on the steps surrounded by jubilant graduates. His hopeful expression turning to disappointment at her rejection.

A rejection born from a desired future where she would be successful enough to stand on her own and take care of her mother.

She sighed heavily, dropping her head for a brief moment to let her forehead rest on Alex’s chest to steady herself. Then she took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.

His desperate, dark chocolate, puppy dog eyes.

Claire’s legs suddenly felt wobbly, but she fought the urge to surrender into his arms. She rejected him then; she needed to reject him again now or everything she worked for would come crashing down.

“Alex,” she began, her voice trembling. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Alex, I—”

“The fact that I’ve been head over heels for you all this time is the truth! And I am willing to shout to the world that despite your rejection, I still want to be with you!” he vowed, though his tone was more pleading than aggressive.

She felt his arms tighten around her, and her body heated with volatile emotions.

“I want you, Claire. I want to be with you—to be a part of your life!” Alex continued as he tilted her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Let me in. Please, Claire.” The raw pleading in his voice pierced her fear. “Let me be with you tonight. No—” he fumbled for words, “expectations, just…together,” he finally sputtered.

She searched his eyes, seeing the genuine passion that mirrored her own emotional state. But the same thought kept popping up in her head like a broken record. Alex was her boss. A romantic relationship would jeopardize her job and affect future opportunities. The obstacles to her feelings felt suddenly insurmountable.

‘What are you going to do, Claire?’ she thought to herself. ‘You can’t leave him hanging.’ She looked up at his eyes once again. Those damn eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity, Claire huffed, “My career is on the line, Alex. If I get burned, my life is over.”

Alex let out a whooshing sigh. “I won’t let you burn. Ever.” Conviction laced every word.

Claire quietly nodded her head, surrendering to the overwhelming need for connection over calculated professional safety. She pulled away from him, the sudden absence of his warmth sent shivers through her body.

“I guess if I’m staying the night with you, I need a change of clothes,” she gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t want to show up to work tomorrow with the same outfit.”

She felt the tension in his shoulders evaporate as he released her completely from his embrace. He turned and opened the front passenger door of his SUV, helping her climb up into it. Then he rushed to the driver’s side and got in. With a grin and a hastily-remembered wave to Derek and Mira, who were standing with knowing smiles on their faces as they waved back, Alex drove Claire back to her apartment.

When they pulled into the parking lot Claire stepped out of the vehicle and headed up the steps of her building. She entered her dark apartment, grabbed her work bag and placed a neatly-folded outfit and her toiletries in it, wrote a quick note letting her mom know where was going to be out tonight, and headed back down to Alex’s waiting car.

The drive was short trip back through the glittering pulse of the city to an understated, modern condominium complex. Alex pulled into the private garage and backed into his reserved space. He moved to open her door and led her tenderly by the hand to the elevator. Swiping his keycard, the elevator rose swiftly, the ascent mirroring the dizzying speed of her choice.

When the doors opened directly into the penthouse foyer, Claire instantly froze. The sheer size and pristine luxury of the space overwhelmed her; the foyer alone looked to be about the size of her two-bedroom apartment. White marble floors shone under soft recessed lighting, leading through an archway that opened into a massive two-level living space.

Alex, still holding her hand, led her past a gleaming, pristine kitchen and into the open living room. Here, large, floor-to-ceiling windows framed the spectacular city skyline, an imposing backdrop for the vast sitting area and fireplace. Claire walked toward the windows with Alex following behind, his hand entwined with hers.

Claire looked out the window to take in the view of the streets far below. The height felt dangerous, exhilarating, and reflective of the powerful, elevated world Alex occupied.

She found her voice, a shaky whisper. "It's beautiful, Alex. It's... too beautiful." Claire suddenly felt very small and insignificant.

He paused, finally releasing her hand, and looked down at her with tender concern. "I know it’s nothing like what you’re used to," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost a continuation of his earlier pleading. "I know how different our worlds look, but it’s you I’ve always wanted, Claire, not any status or benefit I might gain."

He stepped closer, letting the light from the city skyline illuminate the deep earnestness in his eyes. "You're all I see," he said simply, reaching out to gently cup her cheek, letting his thumb brush her jawline. "This is just furniture and glass. You…" he pulled her in slightly, the gentle movement a silent commitment, "you are the view I've waited six years for."

He lowered his head, a hesitant, slow, careful meeting of their lips. Claire could taste the promise of intimacy to come. This time, she had no hesitation, no question of professionalism. Her response was pure desire.

Alex drew her closer into his arms, his lips crushing further into hers. He broke away just long enough to whisper against her mouth, “Are you sure about this, Claire? God, please tell me you’re sure about this!”

“I’m not sure, Alex,” she breathed, “but I’m willing to trust you not to let me fall.”

He pressed his lips to hers again, desperately deepening their kiss. Then without a word, he took her hand, his grip firm but gentle, and led her to the staircase that disappeared toward the second, private level. With a final, desperate sigh of acceptance, Claire followed him up the stairs, leaving behind the gnawing sensation that there would be an inevitable consequence to her choice.