Baby for the Boss Read online Victoria Snow (The Office Affairs #1)

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Office Affairs Series by Victoria Snow
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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“See you tomorrow,” she replied with a half-hearted smile before turning and heading hurriedly up the stairs.

Just when I was about to turn around and head back to the car, I heard a loud crack and looked up. Remy was falling backward and on instinct, I held out my arms to catch her. “Remy, are you okay?” I asked, concern etched over my face.

She looked up at me with wide, surprised eyes and I felt a rush of excitement pulse through me. I wanted to pull her closer to me and feel her body against mine again. “Y-yeah,” she replied with a dazed expression. “The heel on my shoe snapped,” she explained and looked down at it.

I followed her gaze and noticed that the heel on her left shoe was hanging off. “Well, you’re not going to get into your apartment like that,” I commented. “Let me help you inside.”

“No, Griff, you don’t have to—”

“I insist,” I told her firmly before helping her stand up straight. “Hold onto me, okay?”

She nodded and grabbed hold of my forearm. I did as I told her and helped her up the rest of the stairs and into the apartment building. Luckily, she was only on the second floor so I didn’t have far to guide her up the stairs, but when I reached the door, I lingered outside feeling awkward.

Remy let go of my arm and then slipped her broken shoes off, kicking them to the side. She turned and looked at me through the doorway. “Sorry about that,” she said with an apologetic smile in my direction. “I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

I shook my head. “It was no trouble at all, honestly,” I told her with a smile.

“Oh, before I forget,” she began before glancing down at her hand. “You should take this. I don’t think I should be trusted with something so expensive.” She slipped the ring off her finger and held it out between us.

I laughed and took it from her but only so I could put it back in place on her finger. “It would defeat the purpose of this whole thing if no one can see you wearing it, Remy,” I argued.

Remy nodded a little shakily before lifting her hand and checking the ring in the light of her apartment. I watched as the diamond sparkled and a strange thought occurred to me—I thought the ring suited Remy and that she looked good with it on her finger. It shocked me at first, but the longer I watched her, the harder it was to deny what I felt.

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” Remy murmured as she continued to gaze upon the engagement ring.

Neither have I, I thought as my eyes stayed fixed in place on Remy herself. My mind was running away with me. I thought I must have gotten caught up in the faux romance of the evening because suddenly, I was finding it harder and harder to leave.

Remy seemed to notice. Her eyes met mine and she gave me an unreadable look before finally speaking again. “Would you like to come in for a drink as a thank you?” she asked with her eyes wide and hopeful. I knew I couldn’t resist. I didn’t want to leave, not yet.

“Sure, that sounds great.”

Remy stepped aside to let me in before disappearing into the kitchen to get a drink and I took the opportunity to look around her apartment. Unsurprisingly, everything was neat and tidy as I’d come to expect from the usually well-organized secretary. However, there were a few surprises. I noticed that the living room was vibrant and colorful with splashes of color everywhere, something that seemed so extravagant of someone who seemed so meek and obedient at work. Yet, at the same time, I had seen over the last few weeks just how wrong my assumption of Remy had been. She was more confident and exciting that I’d have ever guessed before. I guessed she was always going to surprise me.

When I went to take a seat on her bright yellow faux leather couch, I noticed a print of an Andy Warhol painting hung up above her television. It puzzled me at first. Of course, the popular pop artist’s style totally suited her apartment’s style, but I hadn’t expected Remy to be interested in art. The more I looked around, the more I noticed a few more eclectic pieces hung up in the open-plan kitchen and hallway. The revelation took me by surprise and I was forced to admit the truth: I’d never bothered to get to know Remy as well as I’d thought.

“Wine okay?” she asked upon her return as she handed me a glass of red.

“More than okay,” I replied and gratefully took the drink. Remy sat down beside me on the couch, but she kept a more than polite amount of distance. It surprised me how much I wanted her to close that space and press up against me.


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