More Than My Boss

Tonight is a celebration of snagging a massive portfolio for the marketing firm I work at. I have worked there for a little over 5 years, and I love it more every year. Especially now that I have been promoted to the executive assistant for the CEO of the firm. Ethan Blake. Who just happens to be dating my best friend/co-worker and VP of Sales for the same marketing firm. Ethan Blake. My secret completely head over heels in love with boss. Yeah. I didn’t say it was right. Just that it was.

Every time my Katie laughed, my heart sank a little further. At this point, it felt safe to say my heart had settled somewhere near my feet.

Katie was beautiful, successful, and dating the only man who made me forget how to talk—and sometimes even how to breathe. Ethan Blake was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Painfully handsome.

He sat beside her now, watching her with an expression that made my stomach twist as she told the group a story about a meeting they’d had earlier that day.

To be honest, I wasn’t listening to a word she said.

“Abby? Hello? Anyone home?” Katie asked, laughing.

“Hmm? What?” I blinked, caught completely off guard.

Ethan chuckled. “Abby’s the reason we didn’t lose the entire portfolio. She’s charming, resourceful, and very good at cleaning up our messes.

Heat rushed to my cheeks as the room’s attention shifted to me. I managed a small smile in his direction before lowering my gaze to my hands folded tightly in my lap.

Ethan’s words hung in the air longer than they should have.

Everyone stood up and headed towards the bar area.

Katie smiled proudly beside him, looping her arm through his like it was the most natural thing in the world. I told myself that it was natural, of course it was. They were together. They were happy. This was exactly how things were supposed to look.

Still, I felt something twist in my chest.

“See?” Katie said brightly. “I told you she’s indispensable.”

Ethan’s gaze lingered on me for half a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Absolutely,” he said. “We’d be lost without her.”

I forced a laugh and shrugged in what I hoped looked like casual professionalism. “I just do my job.”

But that wasn’t true. I did so much more than my job, and I’d done it quietly for years—anticipating his needs, smoothing over his missteps, making sure his days ran seamlessly while he barely noticed how often my world revolved around him.

Conversation moved on, and someone suggested another round of drinks. I welcomed the distraction, grateful when Katie stood and pulled Ethan with her toward the bar. The empty space they left behind felt heavier than it should have.

I tried not to watch them.

Tried—and failed.

They fit together easily. Her hand rested at his lower back; his body angled toward her as if no one else in the room existed. I wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like to be looked at the way he looked at her—with certainty, with permission. I watched Katie head to the end of the bar, talking to a group of women from HR. I lost Ethan in the crowd.

“Long day?” a familiar voice asked gently.

I startled, realizing I hadn’t see Ethan walk up beside me . He stood beside me now, holding two glasses, one extended in my direction.

“Oh—thanks,” I said, taking it quickly, our fingers brushing for the briefest moment.

The contact was accidental. Meaningless.

And yet my pulse betrayed me anyway.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been moments earlier. Concern flickered across his face—real, unguarded.

I nodded too quickly. “Fine. Just tired.”

He studied me like he wasn’t entirely convinced. “You work too hard, Abby.”

I let out a quiet breath. If only you knew.

“Well,” I said lightly, lifting my glass, “someone has to keep you both out of trouble.”

A smile curved his lips, slower this time. “I’m glad it’s you.”

Before I could stop myself, I met his eyes—and there it was again. That unmistakable pull. The moment stretched, fragile and dangerous, until-

“Ethan!” Katie called from across the room.

He broke away instantly, turning toward her, whatever had passed between us neatly folded away like it had never existed at all.

I swallowed, staring into my glass.

Because moments like that were my worst kind of hope.