Scoring the Boss: Mr. Match Book 4 by Stewart Delancey

Author:Stewart, Delancey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Wednesday is the new Wednesday

MAX

Two hours later, I was still digging through the database, running every search I could think of, but Tate wasn't there. I tried every variation of her name, even did some answer searches on questions I was pretty sure I knew the answers to. I couldn't find her.

Finally, I dug into the payment portal to see if I could find a card with her name on it.

Bingo. She was there.

I traced the payment to the record number and went back into the database, ran one more search.

And a record came up. She'd used a false name.

Smart girl.

I would have done the same thing, so why did I feel let down when the name "Susan Rose" came up?

"All right, Susan," I said, pushing my shirtsleeves up my arms farther. I was about to run the record against my own, but something made me hesitate.

A fleeting memory of Tate's face in the moonlight flashed through my mind, a physical jolt unsettled me as I felt her in my arms again, felt the way my body had responded to her. It had felt right, almost chemical.

But that's what attraction was. It was chemical.

And attraction didn't always result in longevity. There were too many other factors to risk impulsive entanglements.

I'd learned that lesson already. The hard way. Remember Samantha?

My finger hovered over the enter key, but my phone buzzed at the same moment, and I turned away, digging in my pocket to pull it out.

It was Trace. Relief flooded through me. I turned away from the computer.

"Hello?"

"Max," he said, his everything's-always-great voice rolling through my phone. Trace had a way of being in the world I kind of envied. He was happy, he was settled. But even before he'd been in love, he just was. He didn't seem caught up in his head, didn't have ninety different agendas rattling around. He was Trace.

"What's up?" I was glad for the distraction.

"Some of the guys are at McDaughtry's. Come out."

McDaughtry's was just down the street. I could walk. Clear my head.

I leaned back in the chair, my eyes on the screen in front of me. "Nah. Not tonight." The computer was beckoning me. I knew I shouldn’t run the profiles, but I also knew I was going to do it.

"Why? What are you doing right now?" I turned away from the computer, my mind still churning over the kiss with Tate. With my new boss.

"Not much, just kind of—"

"I bet you're sitting in front of your computer like always." He waited. "Tell me I'm wrong."

God, I wanted to tell him he was wrong. "Yeah."

"Give it a rest. Come have a drink. The season starts for real soon and we won't get a chance."

I sighed, and then reached out and pushed the laptop screen shut before I could rethink it. "Yeah. Okay. I'll be there in fifteen."

"Awesome. See you in a few."

"See you," I said, and without letting myself think about Susan Rose or Tate Archer, or a kiss in the moonlight or bendy gymnasts from long, long ago, I turned off the lights, set the alarm, and left the office.

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