Marina Lansbury?

My belly flipped again, this time the sensation unpleasant.

“Henry, you’re a Lexington. You can ask any woman in Boston to be your date and she’ll say yes. You’re not asking Lexie on an evening out with us. It’s crossing the line.”

Like, say … thinking of me as “Lexie” behind my back? What was that all about?

“Oh, get the stick out of your ass, Caine.”

I was really starting to like Henry more and more.

“Shit, Henry, surely you can do better than Lexie.”

That burned.

I blinked back the sting of tears and clicked the speaker off. That was what I got for eavesdropping.

The burn in my chest wouldn’t dissipate and I had to really struggle to hold back the urge to cry. I couldn’t believe how much it hurt.

I was such an idiot. Caine was never going to see me as anything more than Alistair Holland’s daughter.

The door to the office opened and Henry and Caine stepped out. I avoided Caine’s eyes but gave Henry what I hoped wasn’t a wobbly smile.

Henry took my smile as an invitation and perched himself on the corner of my desk again. I shot a look at Caine, who stood behind him, waiting impatiently.

More than impatiently.

If he could have flayed Henry’s back with his eyes, he would have.

“Alexa.” Henry drew my attention back to him. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the Andersons’ Anniversary Ball on Saturday. I know it’s a little late notice, but I’d be honored if you’d say yes to being my date to the party.”

I didn’t even have to think about it. I gave him one of my own flirty little smiles that made his eyes dance. “Yes. I would love to.”

Caine walked away and Henry glanced over his shoulder to watch his friend’s departure.

“Everything okay?” I said innocently.

Henry gave me a reassuring smile. “Everything’s wonderful. If you give me your address I’ll pick up you up at eight.”

I took the fact that Caine gave me a nod of acknowledgment when he returned from lunch as a good thing, so later that afternoon I dared to be bold. We were returning from a business meeting with the CEO of a flailing investment company.

We were quiet in the car as it took us back to the office.

As always, the tension between us was thick.

I sought to break it … or make it worse. It was a toss-up. “I was hoping I could take a late lunch tomorrow so I can buy a dress for the Andersons’ ball on Saturday.”

I watched as Caine stiffened and then he stared at me with an infuriating imperiousness. “A late lunch? For a dress?”

“It’s about time I spent some of that money I’m making running around after you.” I smiled sweetly.

His eyes raked down my body and they took their time drinking me in on the climb back up.

I flushed, squirming. “Well?”

He looked away, returning his gaze outside the window at the city passing us by. “Move the meeting with Peter from Risk Management tomorrow and I’ll accompany you.”

What? No. He was joking, right? “Are you kidding?”

“No.” He drew the word out with impatience. “You’ll still be representing me and my company on Saturday. I have to make sure you don’t dress … inappropriately.”

My blood started to heat. “Inappropriately?” I said through clenched teeth.

“I don’t have to look in your wardrobe to know it’s filled with shorts and tank tops that show too much cleavage.”

Ugh! “Let’s not forget the fancy-ass work clothes you make me squeeze into on a daily basis,” I snapped, forgetting I was talking to my boss.

He glared at me. “They’re the only appropriate things in your wardrobe. You’ve made my point for me. I’m taking you dress shopping.”

Like hell! “No offense, sir, but I am not going dress shopping with you. It’s supposed to be fun, and I’m sure you understand that having my boss there detracts from the fun.”

Caine sighed and straightened the cuffs on his suit jacket. “Shopping is never fun.”

“Look, you …” I couldn’t even find a word perfect enough to describe his jackassery. “I am an intelligent woman and just because I like comfortable clothes doesn’t mean I don’t know how to dress at a formal event.”

“Alexa.” He curled his lip. “This isn’t prom night back home. This is Boston society.”

I threw him a disgusted look, feeling triumphant when he flinched. The car drew to a stop in the parking garage and I opened my door. Before I got out, I remembered his words to Henry earlier. I turned back to him. “You know, I understood when I took this job that you weren’t going to make it easy on me, but not once in all the hard work have I actively disliked you. Until today.” I shook my head, disappointed in him, so much more than I ever thought I could be. “You’re from Southie. Now you’re part of high society. But instead of embracing where you come from and mixing that with where you are—something that gives you a better perspective than all of them—you’ve become this elitist snob.” I shot out of the car before he could reply and I marched up to the office without him.

Then I sat at my desk stewing in my outrage.

Ten minutes later I heard his footsteps down the hall. When he turned the corner and headed toward me, I braced myself to be fired. His shadow fell over me as he stopped by my desk and I forced myself to look up at him.