The Boss's Proposal Read Online Free

number and we can make plans for later in the week.”
    She thought it over as he tapped in a quick reply to the text, then put his phone away. Lecturing herself, she pulled out one of her business cards. “Max McBain,” she said, handing it to him.
    He glanced at her card, then looked more closely. “You’re an architect?”
    â€œWhy? Do you need a palace built?”
    â€œMaybe a bomb shelter.” He shook his head. “Listen, I’ve really got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

Chapter Two
    M ax stepped out of the elevator into the BRS lobby, her heels clicking on the polished, narrow-planked wood floor. In the center, a blonde sat behind a semicircular workstation of golden oak and beaten copper. Behind that rose a divider of frosted glass emblazoned with the BRS obelisk logo.
    â€œHappy Monday, Brenda,” Max said to the blonde.
    â€œMorning, Max. Nice suit.”
    â€œThanks.” She’d worn a fitted nubby silk number with a yellow and black windowpane pattern. In architecture, clothes didn’t just make the man—or woman—they telegraphed an architect’s design philosophy. The job was all about the visuals, and ona day like this one, she was putting her best stiletto forward. “How did Kelly’s birthday party go this weekend?”
    â€œA sleepover with a dozen eight-year-olds and you have to ask? I’m still getting crushed Pop Tarts out of the rug in the family room.”
    Max grinned. “Fun, then.”
    Brenda grinned back. “Exhausting, but fun. Kelly loved the High School Musical charm bracelet, by the way. You’ll be getting a thank-you note as soon as I have the energy to badger her into it.”
    â€œI’m glad she liked it. Until I have nieces and nephews to spoil, Kelly’s going to have to be my surrogate.”
    â€œShe’ll be happy to hear it. So how was the Portland General benefit? Did anybody interesting show up?”
    Before she could stop it, Max thought of a man with dark eyes and a devilish smile. And of that one unsettling moment when he’d traced his fingers down her cheek and jolted her system.
    It didn’t mean anything, she reminded herself, doing her best to ignore the little roll and shiver the memory conjured in the pit of her stomach. Chalk it up to champagne and the mood of the night. When she saw him in the light of day, the attraction would be gone. If she ever saw him, that was—so far, he hadn’t bothered to call.
    Which was just fine with Max. It wasn’t as though she was on the lookout for a man. She didn’t needthe shivers, she didn’t need the hassles, she didn’t need the distractions. Oh, dates were fun—dinner, some cocktails, a little dancing. But it never went any further than that. They never got any deeper than her skin, she made sure of it.
    And always, always, she was the one who walked away.
    â€œThe gala was all right,” she said aloud. “There was nobody special there. They had a great turnout, though. I think the medical center did pretty well, between donations and the auction.” The auction where she’d lost to a man with a pirate’s smile. Max dragged her thoughts back to the present. “Is Hal in yet?”
    â€œEarly. He was back there swearing at the computer when I got here.”
    â€œHe’s probably still jet-lagged,” Max said. Or trying to figure out what to do about the Jeremy Simmons situation. “Okay, I should get to it. Don’t forget to show me the photos of the party when you get a chance.”
    â€œWhen I get the energy.”
    Max winked. “I hear chocolate’s a good cure for that.”
    â€œIn my experience, chocolate’s a good cure for everything,” Brenda said as the switchboard chimed and she picked up a call.
    Laughing, Max skirted the divider, passing exposed brick walls hung with renderings of the firm’s better-known buildings.