Boss Undercover: Part 1 (Boss Undercover Series) Read online

  “Oh, of course, but you would consider it, right?” he asked. He sounded a little hurt. It was making her feel guiltier by the second.

  “Oh, oh, yeah, I mean, let’s just see how things go,” she replied. “I'm still getting to know you. You know what I mean?”

  Jason agreed, but he didn’t sound exactly too pleased. But would you? she asked herself. She was playing the guy. At first, it was motive for Zack’s surprise appearance. And now? What was the purpose? She wished she had listened to Darren, maybe declined what she thought was a friendly outing, but what would that have done? Claire wasn’t to have known. And what Claire could have done is come clean, she told herself.

  The conversation didn’t seem to flow or go anywhere. Jason spoke a little about work, some past events, and very soon, they were making their way to the department floor. She was glad, even if the relief was temporary. Claire said goodbye and side-stepped awkwardly, catching the hint as he attempted to peck her cheek.

  “Er, I’ll text you,” she said, then scuttled away like the tide rolling out.

  Darren was already at his cubicle typing away…she decided it was her turn to shuffle over to his. He looked up, taking out his earplugs as he smiled. “Zack’s back,” he said, immediately ensnaring her full attention.

  “Where?” she demanded, looking around the office but failing to see a single face over the towering cubicle blocks. Genius, she thought.

  “He’s at that desk Graves found him. He came in abouuuuuut…” He clucked the top of the roof of his mouth. “About twenty-five minutes ago. I think I saw him with Monica.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well, did you come clean? Does Jason know?” he asked, leaning his elbow on the side as he turned to the left.

  “I mean, I—no,” she sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “I couldn’t even find the energy to tell him. He wants to go official and all. I’ve messed up big time, Darren.”

  “Tut, tut, Claire. This isn’t gonna exactly put you in a good position if you don’t tell him,” he explained, flicking a piece of loose cotton off his light blue shirt.

  “I knoooow,” she grumbled, sighing as she leaned against the cubicle wall. “Can’t you just tell him?”

  “Honey, you’re a big girl now. Ain’t none of that bullshit. I mean, what am I supposed to say? Claire, you’ve got to tell him, and more importantly, you just need to admit that there’s something going on between you and your roommate.”

  Claire leaned up. “What? No, pssf. There isn’t. Trust me.”

  “Right, so you didn’t just eagerly start looking around for him when I told you he was here?” He crossed his arms.

  “I-I was just—I mean, I just wanted to know if he was all right and—” She raised her left shoulder as she tried a convincing honest face. “I have work to give him.”

  “Sure.”

  “You know what? To prove it to you, I’m going to walk right over to him and give him that work,” she said, raising her head confidently.

  “Sure, keep denying it,” he called out after her as she stomped around to her cubicle.

  Claire paused as she watched Zack passing the front of the office, heading for the stockroom. It was like her feet were controlling her then, because she found them hot on his trail, and fast. She opened the door; he was at the back reaching for a stack of paper, oblivious that she had just entered.

  She cleared her throat.

  He turned, and like that, like thunder piercing through the high heavens, the above light glorified that charming face, tempting her to bow down to her knees towards the godlike creature that he was. She swallowed, however, wondering why he hadn’t said a word.

  With the impending silence on her shoulders, she decided to make the first move. “So, where were you this morning?” she asked, looking elsewhere than his eyes.

  “Out,” he replied dully.

  “Well, you could have let me know.”

  “I didn’t realise I had to let you know where I was twenty-four hours of the day. I suppose that isn’t enough information for you, though, is it?” He cocked his head to the side, the stack of paper still in his hands. He continued before she had the chance to reply. “Does having sex count?”

  “What?” Her face scrunched up with disgust. “You—what’s that—I mean, you can’t have ditched this morning—”

  “No,” he calmly interrupted. “I had sex just a few minutes ago. Monica—that’s her name, right?”

  “You’re lying,” she hissed. “Why are you being such a jerk?”

  “Last I checked, you were the one jerking Jason off,” he replied, planning to slip aside and head towards the door.

  “Er, fuck you,” she snapped, holding his arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  He raised his left brow. “I’m not?”

  “No. We’re sorting out this shit now.”

  She slowly let loose of his arm, anticipating that he’d stay, considering she was willing to sort, or at least mend what was said Saturday. “Just—just let’s sort this out,” she reiterated once more.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Now, I think you should apologise about Saturday. You clearly overreacted—”

  “I should apologise?”

  She crossed her arms defensively. “Yes!”

  Zack laughed bitterly. “Oh, that’s rich! I should be apologising? I’m not the one prancing about, kissing one guy here and another there, and then when it comes to it, completely denying that you’ve got feelings for me.”

  Claire narrowed her eyes. “I do not have feelings for you, Zack. The only feeling I have for you is hate. H-A-T-E. Hate! Do you need me to spell that out for you again?”

  “Go ahead, baby, spell it out loud and clear!” Zack growled, throwing his hands viciously into the air.

  “I hate you!” she shouted.

  “Good, ’cause I hate you!” he roared.

  It went dead silent. It became a face off. Claire in the one corner, Zack in the other. At any rate, they could clash. She was looking him dead in the eyes, so vexed she didn’t know what else she was feeling, but all she could imagine was kicking him to space. He was like this little bug, always finding its way into a house.

  “You know, you’re—” she began.

  “Just shut up,” he cut in, dropping the stack of paper on the floor as he closed the gap between them. His lips collided with hers. It was like a wild forest fire had set alight that Claire could no longer refuse. Her fingers glided through his hair as she felt him deepen the kiss, and lustfully, she clung closer to him, wanting every inch of him as close as possible to her own body. It was an old hunger. Zack’s tongue invaded her own.

  He lifted her up, and she welcomed it by wrapping her legs around his waist as he pushed her up against the stockroom door. Not a word was spoken in return as he began to unbutton the first few buttons of her cream blouse to finally expose her breasts. She was thankful that she wore something a little more tasteful, a brown lace flowered bra. She felt goose bumps all over, and a sheer attack of butterflies swarmed her stomach when his lips caressed her breasts before teasingly her hardened nipples through the flimsy material. Slowly, Zack began to move his lips down; that triggered her stomach to quiver in delight. Nor did he stop when he passed her belly button and intentionally took his time to poke his fingers through either side of her skirt’s waistband. Claire grabbed the collar of his shirt in impatience, tugging it in torment.

  Gently, he kissed her stomach, then stood up, watching the hunger in Claire’s eye hesitate a little before it burned ferociously when he joined their lips and squeezed one of her breasts.

  They froze when the door handle moved. Zack instantly locked the door. Claire hurriedly began to fasten her buttons, but she was so shaken that Zack had to take over and finish the job for her.

  “Hello? Is somebody in there?”

  Claire refused to meet Zack’s eyes as she flattened her shirt. She began to do the same to her hair, instantly falling to
her knees as Zack opened the door. She began to collect the scattered paper, pretending shit didn’t just happen then.

  “Sorry.” She could see from the corner of her eye Zack shaking a hand. “I must have locked the door. We dropped the paper. I’ll go see if there’s any more needed in the printer.” Then he slid out of sight.

  Claire picked up as much as she could, then hurried past her colleague, not breathing a word as she exited the stockroom, sucking in a mouthful of air.

  Darren was typing rapidly across the keyboard as Claire returned, heading over to his side of the cubicle. “Where have you been? The stockroom? I thought you flew around the world eighty times,” he said.

  Claire blinked. “I had to go…get paper.”

  “Honey, you’re flushed. You been having a good ol’ workout in there,” Darren jokingly said.

  “No, I just couldn’t reach the top shelf,” she lied.

  “Well, in better news, I’m planning drinks and a home-cooked meal at mine tonight. Jonas is coming. I want you to meet him,” Darren said, smiling from ear to ear.

  Claire’s brows raised. “Dinner?”

  “Yes, as in sitting around what you call a table and eating what we call food, Claire. Of course, a dinner.”

  Claire scoffed. “Darren, I’m not thick.”

  “Well, what do you say? We were having dinner over mine anyway, but I kindly suggested that perhaps you’d like to come. That way we can all dine together and finally meet,” Darren explained, tapping his pen lightly onto the desktop.

  “Of course I would!” She smiled. Anything to stay away from Zack for the time being, she thought.

  “Great,” Darren said. “Mine at seven.”

  ***

  ZACK

  Claire. Moments ago, he just enjoyed the fucking hottest action in his life. And it seemed to never get old. It was like a cycle: on one hand they fought like cats and dogs, and on the other, they gave each other mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. It just didn’t make sense. What does this all mean, though? he thought.

  “Zack,” Monica purred beside him, caressing her fingers across his hand that was resting on his right thigh. Ever since he’d slept twice with her, she’d become irritating. She had joined him when Graves had assigned Monica to help him with a case study to get him further on track after his mentoring with Claire had finished, but she was no actual help.

  “What’s up?” Zack asked, gently removing her hand from his thigh, hoping she would get the message. Monica, however, only accepted this as a little “hard to get” move and instead fought back, intentionally moving her hand towards his dick.

  “Monica, sweetie,” he muttered, stopping her hand from grabbing his manhood under the desk. “Can you relax? I can see you’re horny, but can’t you give a guy a break?”

  “Why, though? We…could go that—”

  “Ssssh,” Zack interrupted. “Just relax.”

  Monica hissed. “You weren’t like that earlier. You let my hands roam all over you. So, what’s changed?” She narrowed her eyes.

  Zack groaned. “Monica, I’m not in the mood right now. Get it?”

  “Fine. I’m going back to my office anyway. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  CLAIRE

  Claire was going to stand her ground. But no. Instead, she was deceived by those god-gorgeous looks, and next thing she knew, she was making out with the guy and gladly throwing her knickers at him. Yeah, well done, Claire. Great job! Maybe Zack was right. Maybe she was stubborn. But admitting her feelings for him was like diving into the deep blue sea where hungry sharks circled. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

  She tried to interact as little as possible with Zack, refusing to speak about their entanglement, and was out the door in no time, heading for her friend’s apartment. That conversation was for another time.

  Darren’s apartment was situated a few minutes away from a local supermarket and overlooked the car park of the telephone market enterprise, EMEs. Claire resented how he sat on the eleventh floor—it was tiring for her feet when the flat’s lifts weren’t in working order, and that was most of the time. With little grace, Claire heaved like an aging man, unable to walk more than three steps at a time as she climbed up onto the final step. Yes, today the lifts decided not to function. Typical. Brushing her slightly sweaty hands down her freely wrinkled green shirt dress, Claire inhaled. Right, next step, get to Darren’s door without collapsing in exhaustion.

  He must have been waiting behind the other side of the door, because as soon as she arrived, he opened it with enthusiasm. “Claire, you made it. And darling, you’re looking a little red-faced. Lifts not working again?”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Claire said jokingly before engulfing his broad torso in her arms.

  As Darren pulled back, Claire noticed a male from over Darren’s shoulder standing behind him, sheepishly smiling at her. Darren instantly introduced the very attractive man. His blond hair seemed to be kissed by the sun itself, and he had an adorable smile accompanied by dimples.

  “And this, Claire, is my super-hot boyfriend, Jonas,” Darren introduced, extending his right hand that interlocked with Jonas’ welcoming one.

  “Nice to meet you.” Jonas smiled, using his free hand to shake Claire’s.

  “And you. I must say, Jonas, I agree with Darren on that—you’re mighty handsome!”

  Jonas laughed.

  “Well, don’t just stand there. Get your arse in, Claire. My food ain’t being burned because of your tardiness,” Darren demanded.

  “Yes, sir,” Claire said, saluting her hand up a little as she entered the apartment.

  Darren’s apartment was its usual clean and tidy self. It was also decorated with his famous collection of celebrities’ signatures in frames upon the walls. And he took much pride in them knowing the amount of effort he had to make, just so he could bargain the celebrity to sign. There was the story where he hassled Emma Stone’s bodyguard, confused the guy by doing the ol’ trick of faking that someone in the hotel had broken their leg, and then swooped to Emma Stone like Prince Charming. She was indeed friendly enough to offer her signature before supplying him a quick exit. The good times abroad he had seeking out the celebrities in LA.

  “Okay, so you two get chatting whilst I get the drinks.” Darren gleamed, excitedly springing towards the small kitchen.

  Claire rolled her eyes playfully. “Jonas, I don’t know how you’re going to handle that one. He’s always on his toes.”

  Jonas chuckled. “I say that to myself every time I see the man.” Darren returned to the side of the sofa, holding three wine glasses on a tray. Jonas wasted no time in slipping his arm around Darren’s waist. Scooting onto the sofa’s arm, Darren nestled comfortably closer into Jonas as he placed the tray onto the coffee table. “But he knows that he ain’t be leaving me ’cause he knows where I keep my pistol.”

  Jonas slapped Darren’s knee. “Shut up! You’re such an ass.”

  Claire smiled at their affection and couldn’t help at that second to think of Zack. Wait. What? Discouraging any more thoughts of Zack, she asked with haste, so much that her tone sounded a little too high-pitched, “So, Jonas, how did you meet Darren? I’ve heard Darren’s side of the story, but we all know he can be a little over-dramatic.”

  Darren scowled. “Er, excuse me, Claire Winter. But I’ll have you know that every word was true. Right, babe?”

  Jonas laughed. “Sure, whatever you say.”

  Darren frowned, getting up to his feet as he began filling the empty glasses with the red wine that sat in the middle of the glass coffee table.

  Jonas smiled. “I’m sure you’ve been told that we met because we lived right next door to each other, and it was due to the occurrence of me getting locked out. There’s no question to that, but did Darren tell you the part where he nearly hassled the elderly lady who lives four doors down because of me?”

  Claire opened her eyes in bewilderment. “What? You’ve
got to share this!”

  Darren gasped. “What! Jonas, don’t you dare. That woman still keeps giving me the stares every time I pass her door. And I swear she’s got a pair of binoculars up her skirt, because she’s always looking from that window whenever I’m just returning home.”

  Jonas shook his head. “Trust me. It was hilarious.”

  “What did he do?”

  Jonas leaned forward, pressing his arms onto the ends of his knees as he spoke. “So, basically, I was playing a little hard to get, if you know what I mean?” Then he wiggled his eyebrows. “And before we officially got interested in pursuing this relationship further, I dared…him to sing for me.”

  “What!” Claire laughed, gasping for air. “Darren can’t belt a tune! You should have heard him at last year’s work party on the karaoke machine. Let’s just say Bieber wouldn’t have been impressed.”

  “I know! I know!” Jonas howled. “Oh, but seriously, you should have been here. I got Darren to sing outside my door and—”

  “I’m seriously going to curl up on my bed and cry in a minute,” Darren interrupted, shaking his head with embarrassment.

  “Babe, you remember what you sang, right?” Jonas sneered.

  “Nope. Nope. Nope.”

  Jonas turned back to Claire as he continued. “So, I got him to sing, right? And I was listening on the other side—well, laughing. But anyway, he stops, and that’s when I hear the old lady complaining to Darren for fucking singing. She said it was like her fucking cats meowing when they’re disturbed. Or when she’d got fucking diarrhoea! So, Darren was in a war with the old bird, telling her to mind her own business. Oh, it was so funny! She was so brutal with her insults.” Jonas was convulsed with laughter, making Darren glower.

  Claire was cracking up too, unable to believe it all.

  Darren took a sip from his wine, then muttered, “Oh, what is this? Pick on Darren Day? You two—I knew I should have never introduced you. You’re a tag team.”