Two weeks on the road with my boss? Business as usual.
Two weeks on the road with my newer, hotter boss that I had a one-night stand with four years ago?
A disaster waiting to happen.
It was a one-time thing with a man I knew from work.
His name was Oliver Black. The rich and handsome manager of the Botsford Plaza Hotel in Las Vegas.
Dark hair. Icy blue eyes. A cocky smirk with dimples deep enough to trip on.
No one has to know, he said.
And no one did know… except maybe the guests trying to sleep in the suite next door.
I didn’t know he’d eventually get promoted to my department.
I definitely didn’t know my boss would assign me to travel the country with him to keep his raging ego in check.
Two weeks. Five locations. A whole lot of hotel rooms in-between.
This trip will either solidify our business relationship as totally platonic friends and nothing more, or destroy my career. But we already know the answer to that question, don’t we?
I’m screwed. Literally.
