A Fake Date With My New Boss

Chapter 18

Chapter 018.

Lola's POV.

The 3 days leave was over, it's my resumption dat. I wake up earlier than usual, I still wondered why I did that.

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the office was the flowers sitting neatly on my desk, fresh white roses wrapped in simple paper, with a small note resting against the vase, a short welcome message from Zack, and for a few seconds I simply stood there staring at them, wondering why one small gesture from that man could make my entire morning feel different.

I picked up the note slowly, already knowing who it was from, but I still read it twice, the short message asking me to have a good day and reminding me that he was sorry, there was nothing dramatic about it, yet somehow that made it worse, because Zack was usually not the kind of man who needed many words to make his presence known.

I placed the note beside my computer and tried to focus on work, but my attention kept returning to the flowers, and every time I looked at them, the memory of the previous night tried to return with them, his closeness, his voice, the way everything between us had changed before I even understood what was happening.

I was still trying to convince myself that the flowers meant nothing when I heard footsteps approaching, and when Zack appeared at the entrance of my office, his usual serious expression was missing, replaced by something that looked almost like concern, his eyes moving over me as though he was checking for signs that I was not okay.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I am fine.”

“You do not look fine.”

“I said I am fine, Zack.”

He stepped closer, studying my face for another moment, then his voice softened, and that simple change made it harder to keep pretending that I was completely unaffected by him, especially when he asked whether I had eaten, whether I had slept well, and whether I was still feeling uncomfortable after everything that happened.

“I ate, I slept, and I am perfectly healthy.”

“That is good, because I was worried about you.”

I almost forgot how to answer him, the concern in his voice sounded too genuine, too different from the cold boss I knew.

“You do not have to handle everything alone.”

Something about that sentence touched a part of me I had been trying very hard to keep locked away, so instead of answering, I lowered my head and pretended to wipe something from the corner of my eye, forcing a few tears into my expression because if Zack wanted to be concerned, I could at least use it to my advantage.

“What happened?”

“Claire hissed at me this morning.” I lied through my teeth.

His expression changed immediately, and I almost felt guilty when he stepped closer, his voice becoming gentler as he asked what was wrong, but then I remembered how confused I was about him, how easily he had made me forget that he was my boss, and I let the fake sadness remain on my face.

“I am sorry, I just need some time.”

“You have it, and if Claire gives you any trouble, you come straight to me.”

When we finally walked toward his office, I kept glancing at him, still trying to understand the man beside me, because this was not the Zack who had once made my workdays miserable, this was the same man who had protected me, waited for me, brought me flowers, and now seemed genuinely worried about whether I was okay.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

He looked at me, then gave a small smile that made me immediately regret asking.

“Because I want your forgiveness.”

I stopped walking for a moment, his answer leaving me with nothing clever to say, and before I could respond, he turned toward me at the same time I moved forward, bringing our faces unexpectedly close, close enough that I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw and remember exactly how his lips had felt against mine.

The memory came without warning, and suddenly the office around me seemed quieter, my attention fixed on his mouth while the warmth of that night returned to my thoughts, and before I could stop myself, I leaned slightly closer, following the memory instead of my better judgment.

Zack noticed, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips before he pulled away, cleared his throat, and looked toward his desk as if he needed something there to rescue both of us from the awkward silence.

“I have something for you.”

I watched him reach into his jacket and pull out two movie tickets, holding them between his fingers while trying to look completely casual, but there was something almost nervous about the way he waited for my response.

“Will you come to the cinema with me?”

“I have a lot of work.”

He looked at me for a second, then reached for his phone without arguing, which made me suspicious, and when he called Leo into the office, I already knew something ridiculous was about to happen.

“Leo, take every task assigned to Lola today and give them to Claire.”

Leo looked from Zack to me, then back at Zack, clearly trying to understand what he had just heard.

“Every task?”

“Every single one.”

I covered my mouth when I heard Claire’s voice from outside, followed by a loud complaint that traveled straight through the office, and despite everything, I could not stop the little smile that appeared on my face because for once, someone else was dealing with the mountain of work that usually landed on my desk.

“She is going to kill you.”

“She will survive.”

I looked at Zack, and for the first time that morning, I laughed without forcing it, because the absurdity of the situation had somehow made the tension disappear, and Zack seemed pleased to see the change in my face.

“Now you have no excuse.”

“I still have things I can do.”

“Then consider today a day off.”

The way he said it was so calm, so certain, that arguing suddenly felt pointless, and when he held out his hand toward me, I hesitated only for a moment before taking it, allowing him to lead me out of the office while Claire continued complaining somewhere behind us.

The drive to the cinema was quieter than I expected, but it was not uncomfortable, Zack kept checking on me whenever we stopped at a light, asking whether I was hungry or tired, and when I mentioned that I had not eaten much that morning, he immediately changed our plans and stopped for something I liked.

“You really are acting strange today.”

“I am trying to make things right.”

“You do not have to keep doing all this.”

“I want to.”

Those three words stayed with me as we entered the cinema, because there was no teasing in his voice this time, no boss giving an order, only a man trying to show me that he cared, and somehow that frightened me more than his coldness ever had.

We bought popcorn and drinks, then walked into the theatre, Zack letting me choose where we sat, and when I picked two seats near the middle, he followed without complaint, sitting beside me with enough space between us to make me wonder if he was deliberately trying not to make me uncomfortable.

As the lights dimmed, I glanced at him, and the faint glow from the screen fell across his face, making him look calmer than I had ever seen him, and for a moment I forgot about the office, Claire, the fake relationship, the threats, and even the complicated history between us.

I reached for the popcorn at the same time he did, our hands brushing inside the box, and neither of us moved immediately, the small contact bringing back the memory of his touch from the night before, making me pull my hand away with a quiet laugh.

“You can take it.”

“You take it.”

He smiled, picked up a piece, and held it out to me instead, and when I accepted it from his fingers, I found myself smiling at him before quickly turning toward the screen, annoyed that he was making it so easy for me to forget why I had been angry.

Halfway through the movie, I realized I was no longer watching the screen properly, because Zack kept doing little things without drawing attention to them, moving my drink closer when I reached for it, lowering his voice whenever he spoke, and quietly asking whether I was comfortable whenever I shifted in my seat.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am okay.”

“Good.”

I looked at him again, and this time I did not look away immediately, because there was something different about being cared for by Zack, something that made the walls I had built around myself feel less solid, and despite everything I told myself, my heart was beginning to flutter whenever he looked at me like I mattered.

When the movie ended, we walked outside together, the evening air cool against my face, and Zack stood beside me with his hands in his pockets, looking at me with the same quiet concern he had shown all day.

“Did you enjoy the movie?”

“I did.”

“Then I am glad.”

I smiled, looking down at the flowers still in my hand, then back at him, and for the first time since that night, I wondered whether forgiving Zack might be easier than I had planned, because maybe the real problem was not what happened between us, maybe the real problem was that I was beginning to like the way he cared about me.