My Boss' Best Friend Read online

  But the other man was wrong, Christian thought. Everything was wrong. It wasn’t like him at all to be guilty of such a slip-up, and at that moment, he only had one claustrophobic thought in mind.

  Things could only go downhill from there.

  The more time he spent with Jane, the less attention he would pay to his life’s work, and before he knew it, all his sacrifices would be for naught.

  “Just keep me posted.”

  After hanging up on Ray, who had still been apologizing profusely, Christian had found himself making up an excuse to leave and letting Jane’s assumptions take care of the rest. When she had walked him to the car, he had told himself that it was time to put the brakes on his feelings for her. It was just too damn consuming, and it was threatening to bring his world down.

  But when he had reached for the handle of the car door, Jane had suddenly hugged him tightly from behind, mumbling, “I miss you.”

  And he hadn’t been able to help himself after that.

  Christian had made love to her even knowing it was wrong. He had fucked her even though in the back of his mind he knew everything – every goddamn thing – was bound to change.

  BY THE TIME JANE MADE it back to the city, Christian still hadn’t answered any of her texts and calls, and she was struggling not to drown under an anarchic mix of emotions: misery, humiliation, worry, resentment—-

  But most of all, it was a need to know Christian was okay.

  Despite knowing better, she had found herself texting him nonstop. Despite knowing she was turning into a nagging, whining bitch – the exact type Christian was likely to hate – she hadn’t been able to help it.

  Jane: Could you please reply, no matter how late? Just reply when you read this. That’s all I need.

  Jane: You’re really not working, are you?

  Jane: You’re with your ex. The girl with a split-personality name! I’m right, aren’t I?

  Jane: If you just want to break off our engagement, then just say it!

  She was being pathetic, and she knew it. But she just couldn’t help it. Something simply didn’t feel right, and the more time that passed and Christian’s silence continued to drag on, the more it felt like the world she knew was nothing but a bubble about to burst.

  Just look away, a desperate voice inside of Jane urged. If you close your eyes, pretend nothing’s happening, maybe everything would be swept under the rug. Maybe everything could be normal again, or at least look like it was so.

  That was what she had been doing ever since Merry had made her feel like she had no right to speak up, no right to do anything that would draw attention to herself because she wasn’t pretty or smart enough.

  And it wasn’t right, Jane suddenly realized as she stepped out of the cab in front of Christian’s apartment building. Yes, she wasn’t the prettiest, sexiest, smartest, or most interesting person out there. But it didn’t make her any less important. It didn’t mean she couldn’t let her voice be heard, didn’t mean she shouldn’t want her own Disney moment.

  Jane squared her shoulders and marched inside the lobby and past the gawking concierge. It was time to take her life back, she told herself, and she had to start with Christian. Even if it meant risking his wrath, she had to at least let him know that she was angry and hurt.

  Yes, she had promised to never complain about his work, but this was too much. And she mustn’t let him forget that he had been the first to break his promise, Jane thought determinedly. He had sworn to her that Halloween would be solely devoted to spending time with each other, and yet he hadn’t lasted more than a few hours before making his escape.

  By the time she made it to his penthouse apartment, she had worked herself up into a righteous state of fury. She used the key Christian had given her to unlock the door and letself her in, saying hotly, “You have some explaining to do—-”

  Jane froze mid-track.

  Christian wasn’t alone.

  In fact, the living room was stuffed with people. There was Jared Westland standing next to the windows, a couple of familiar faces making up Christian’s staff, and then some more, all of them wearing IDs bearing the logo of Christian’s company.

  Shit.

  “Sorry,” Jane said in a tiny, squeaky, voice.

  But Christian’s face remained cold, and bewilderment warred with an inexplicable sense of fear inside of Jane as she watched Christian make his way to her.

  “Christian,” she heard Jared say warningly.

  “This isn’t your fucking business,” Christian answered without taking his icy azure gaze from Jane.

  What was happening? What was wrong? When he stood in front of her, she couldn’t help whispering, “Christian?”

  “I’m glad you’ve come.”

  Really? It didn’t look like he was glad. His face was the picture of a man on death row. Well, that or he was looking at a person on death row – and that person would be her.

  Jane tried again. “Christian?” She didn’t shout or cry his name, knowing she didn’t have to. It was the same uncertain tone she had used earlier, only this time she didn’t try hiding anything.

  In her voice, she knew Christian and probably anyone and everyone in the room who had at least marginal EQ would know what she was feeling, which was—-

  Pain.

  Fear.

  And most of all, a need just to have Christian look at her again like she still meant something to him.

  But all Christian said was, “I was planning to call you.”

  Jane slowly shook her head. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear, and he knew it.

  He gestured to a couple of individuals behind him. “That’s FBI Agent Thornton.”

  A black-haired woman in a suit stood up.

  “That’s my legal counsel, Attorney Peters.”

  A silver-haired gentleman also stood up.

  Jane managed a smile, but her eyes remained on Christian. He had to know she didn’t give a damn about any of those people. “Christian?”

  “They have a couple of questions they’d like to ask of you—-”

  She cut him off. “Christian?”

  “We’re hoping you’d be amenable—-”

  “Christian!”

  And this time, her voice broke a little.

  Christian’s lips compressed.

  The bubble had burst, Jane thought numbly.

  She didn’t understand how it happened, much less why, but she only knew that it had. It was a slap in the face, a stab in the heart, a slice to the jugular. It was all that and more.

  But even so—-

  She couldn’t help trying one more time. “Christian?” And this time, his name came out in a whisper devoid of disguises, a whisper so raw that it had Jared swearing and everyone else in the room looking away, their discomfort on her behalf written all over their faces.

  But Christian still didn’t speak, and she stammered painfully, “C-Christian?”

  A thousand questions echoed in those two syllables.

  Why won’t you even say hi?

  Why won’t you even let me touch you?

  Why won’t you even look at me?

  Just one last time, Jane told herself doggedly.

  “Christian—-”

  His head finally snapped towards her, and her voice caught, Jane realizing she had misjudged her capacity for pain.

  “Enough of this.” His voice was hard, his accent pronounced, and his azure gaze was filled with so much contempt it had her stumbling back a step.

  He started speaking again, and soon the agent and the lawyer joined him, the three of them forming what felt like a circle of damnation around her. This time, they were all talking, but this time she no longer cared. This time, she just wanted to cover her ears and scream at them to shut up.

  Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!

  Couldn’t they at least give her one damn moment while her heart shattered into pieces?

  Chapter Eleven

  A one-way mirror into the interrogatio
n room allowed Christian and Jared to watch the ongoing interview between the FBI agent and Jane. Inside with them were her attorney and Christian’s legal representative, both of them wearing stoic expressions on their faces.

  Both lawyers had told him on separate occasions that they strongly believed Jane Cooper had nothing to do with the breach, which was now a matter of national security due to recently discovered circumstances.

  But even so, Christian had still OK’d Agent Thornton’s request for an interview.

  Because it was protocol, he told himself. That was all there was to it, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he had this inexplicable need to give Jane every reason to distance herself from him.

  Beside him, Jared said flatly, “You can’t possibly think she’s the culprit.”

  “I’m only being thorough.” Christian’s tone was devoid of emotion. “You’ve seen the results of the preliminary investigation. Practically every possible angle pins the blame on her.”

  Fact #1: The security breach stemmed from the backup servers he had purchased, which consequentially yielded private information about H’s players to a still-unidentified third party.

  Fact #2: A subsequent investigation revealed that a pre-loaded script in the backup servers had been the source of the breach.

  Fact #3: Since Christian had made sure that the company he bought the servers from wouldn’t have any time to tinker with its programming, the script could only have been loaded if someone had insider’s knowledge prior to his acquisition.

  Insider’s knowledge that could have come from Jane, Christian thought harshly. She was the only other person that had been with Jared and him during their business dinner at Keine Rückkehr Casino’s restaurant. That was the only time they had spoken about his backup plans for H, and not even the other party, Norman Caruthers, had known Christian was thinking about purchasing servers from him.

  Jared cursed under his breath when it was obvious that was everything his friend had to say on the subject. “We both know it’s not her—-”

  “The facts state otherwise—-”

  “Bullshit. That’s fucking bullshit, and you know it.” Jared turned to face Christian, grating out, “How many times have you told me that your instincts are never wrong?”

  “Aren’t you the same person,” Christian exploded, “who told me that I was insane to listen to my instincts about marrying Jane because I barely knew her?”

  “And you proved me wrong! I wish you fucking hadn’t, but you did. You showed me your instincts were fucking right again – so why the hell are you choosing this one time not to listen to them?” Jared shook his head in frustration when Christian’s jaw only clenched. “Why don’t you just fucking admit it to yourself? All this is because of one thing, and it’s the fact that you can’t accept you love her.”

  Christian’s powerful form jerked, and his gaze swerved to where Jane sat so still inside the interrogation room.

  No.

  Jared laughed humorlessly at the way Christian’s fists clenched. “There’s no point denying it.”

  Christian swung away from the window.

  “You love Jane,” Jared repeated ruthlessly. “You’ve probably fallen for her from the start, and I wish to hell I didn’t know that, but I do.” His own gaze went to Jane—-

  Funny, lovely, sweet Jane who couldn’t be his—-

  And he, too, turned away.

  “She made you human,” Jared muttered under his breath, “and as your friend, I wanted that for you. It’s the only reason why I’ve never gone after her the way I could have—-”

  “If you want her so fucking much,” Christian heard himself say, “then she’s yours—-”

  He stopped speaking.

  Ah, fuck.

  Even without hearing Jared inhale sharply, even without turning around, he already knew—-

  She had heard him.

  “THANK YOU FOR AGREEING to talk to me in private.”

  Christian only nodded, leaving Jane unable to say anything else. She turned away and fumbled for the key in her purse while struggling to keep her composure. It seemed like so long ago, Jane thought numbly, when they were okay.

  Was it just the other night she had last glimpsed his smile?

  The answer to it made her hands tremble, and she suddenly had a hard time fitting the key into the lock. A full minute passed, and she heard Christian walking towards her.

  “Let me do it.”

  Christian’s curt voice made her flinch, but what hurt her more was the way he took the key from her. He was meticulously careful not to touch her, painfully so. It made her feel like she had an awful contagious disease, and as soon as he had possession of the key Jane couldn’t help shakily stepping away, lest he be infected.

  A moment later, and Christian said, “It’s open.” He opened the door for her, and she walked past him. Even without looking back, Jane could feel his presence changing the very air around them, and she sucked in her breath. It hurt that his mere presence left her feeling so raw, but it hurt even more, knowing that it wasn’t the same for him.

  Placing her purse down on the mantel, she asked stiltedly, “Can I get you anything?”

  “No.”

  Because he’d rather get this over with sooner rather than later, she translated, and her throat began to itch. “O-okay.” Ah, how it itched. “I’ll be just a minute.” Her voice croaked in the end. Shit. She really needed a glass of water. She was just thirsty, she told herself as she hurried towards the kitchen on legs that threatened to give out any second. That was all this was, rather than having anything to do with the fact that tears had been clogging her throat from the moment-—

  If you want her so fucking much, then she’s yours—-

  This time, her knees did buckle, and her hand slammed against the wall as Jane fought to keep herself upright.

  Behind her, she heard Christian ask sharply, “Is everything fine?”

  Oh my God, was he serious?

  Jane told herself she would keep her cool. She wouldn’t beg, she wouldn’t shout. She would be an adult—-

  But then she found herself whirling around.

  Fuck being an adult.

  “You know what you’re doing here, don’t you?”

  Jane was yelling.

  Christian’s face became rigid. “Don’t shout.”

  Don’t shout? Jane heard herself laugh. Don’t shout? And she couldn’t help it any longer, shrieking, “Don’t shout? That’s really all you can say?” And she laughed again, unable to help it even as she realized her mood had swung alarmingly from despair to hysterics. Or maybe this mood was just another face of heartbreak. It was hard to tell anything when she was hurting so much.

  When he only looked at her with those callously cold eyes of his, she said unevenly, “At least admit it.”

  Christian’s lips tightened and he stood up with a shake of his head. “I’m not the one with something to admit—-”

  “Don’t!” Jane’s voice shook at the strength of her emotions. She couldn’t believe he was still insisting on hiding behind such a stupid excuse. “I didn’t steal anything from you, and you know it! All this is about is you pushing me away because I’m getting too close—-”

  “Will you fucking stop making this all about you,” Christian snarled. “I’m in danger of losing my company. Have you forgotten that? I’m responsible for over a hundred people – my job is to make sure they’ve got food on their tables, and here you fucking are, acting like this is still about us—-”

  “Because it is,” Jane cried out, “and you’re destroying me—-”

  “Bullshit.” Christian saw Jane pale and knew he was hurting her. “Don’t make this into some kind of fucking soap, where you’re the innocent victim everyone’s out to ruin.” He saw her lips tremble and he knew he should stop, but he couldn’t.

  “Stop acting like it’s the end of the world. You’re far from being alone, and we both know it. I’m not the only man who wants you—-”


  A stricken look crossed her face.

  “But Christian...”

  The heart-wrenching note of pain in her voice stopped the flow of his words.

  “You’re the only one I want,” Jane whispered.

  Christian sucked in his breath.

  She wrapped her arms around herself while staring at him, wondering if he got it now. What other men felt didn’t. Only he mattered, but—-

  If you want her so fucking much, then she’s yours.

  The words came out of nowhere, and she jerked, realizing that she was the one who didn’t get it.

  If you want her so fucking much, then she’s yours—-

  He might be the only man she wanted, but it wasn’t the same for him.

  If you want her so fucking much, then she’s yours—-

  She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that she could never utter the same words to him.

  If you want her so fucking much, then she’s yours—-

  Because she loved Christian.

  If you want her so fucking much, then she’s yours—-

  And Christian didn’t love her.

  Christian swore when he saw the tears that started to fall silently down Jane’s face. “Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t cry.” He watched Jane’s eyes open, watched her visibly struggle to control her tears and silently try to understand him—-

  And something in him snapped.

  “Don’t fucking cry.”

  Because it was making him want to listen to his heart rather than his head.

  “Don’t fucking make this about you.”

  Because it was making him think what they had could still be salvaged.

  She started hyperventilating, breaking into pieces before his very eyes, and yet she still gazed—-

  Ah fuck, she still looked at Christian like she loved him.

  Jane watched Christian turn away with stunned, pained eyes, and she couldn’t help whispering, “That’s it? You’re walking away, just like that?”

  Christian stopped moving, and her heart paused its frantic beating.

  Please look at me, Jane pleaded feverishly in her mind. Please let’s fix this. Please.