The Boss’s secret soft spot

Chapter 16 – After Hours

The office had emptied out by nightfall, but Doris remained at her desk, absorbed in numbers and notes. She told herself it was just work, just catching up — but deep down, she knew why she stayed.

She was waiting for him.

Emma hadn’t said anything unusual during the day. No messages. No calls. Just business as usual. But she’d felt it — in his gaze, in the moment their hands touched. The same pull, the same unspoken tether.

The sound of her phone vibrating startled her.

Emma:

Still here?

She hesitated for a second before replying.

Doris:

Yeah. Finishing the quarterly breakdown.

Emma:

Come up to my office. If you’re free.

She swallowed hard, heart skipping. Then she stood, straightened her blouse, and made her way upstairs.

His office was dimly lit, city lights stretching across the windows like a quiet painting. Emma stood near the glass, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his forearms, staring out at the skyline.

He didn’t turn as she entered. “You shouldn’t have to stay this late.”

“I don’t mind,” she said softly. “Some nights are quieter when I stay behind.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, then turned fully. “That’s exactly why I do it too.”

There was a pause. The hum of traffic below. The distant sound of an elevator bell.

Finally, he stepped toward her. “They’re talking, you know.”

“I figured,” Doris said, her voice steady even though her hands felt cold. “About us.”

Emma’s jaw clenched for a second. “I’ve spent years making sure I never gave them a reason to talk. Always professional. Always above suspicion.”

“You’re worried,” she said.

“I’m responsible,” he replied. “For what happens to you. To your reputation.”

Doris stepped closer, eyes never leaving his. “And what about you, Emma? Are you protecting me… or protecting yourself?”

The question lingered in the air like a challenge. But instead of recoiling, Emma’s gaze softened.

“I’m protecting something I didn’t expect to find,” he murmured. “Something I’m not ready to lose.”

Her breath hitched.

“I don’t care what they say,” she whispered. “As long as you’re honest with me.”

“I am,” he said. “More than I’ve been with anyone in a long time.”

And then, in the quiet of his office — with the door closed, the city watching, and the whole world beyond their walls — he reached out, gently brushing his fingers against hers.

Not bold. Not rushed. But certain.

And she didn’t pull away.