I purse my lips, unconvinced. “Who told you this story?”

“Oh, you know how urban legends start. One knows the story, but somehow can’t remember how, when, or who told it. It’s just something everyone knows.”

“You think it’s true?”

“I’ve never met someone as commitment-phobic as Richard. True, it could be innate. But somehow, I don’t think it is. It’s like the boss is trying too hard to pretend he doesn’t care. All that cynicism has to come from a scar somewhere in his past. One that runs deep. Plus, all his friends from London say he was a completely different person before he moved here.”

“Different, how?”

“Just the opposite of how he is now. The perfect boyfriend who would plan the perfect date for his girlfriend. Romantic, ready to commit, to start a family. But now… I mean he’s a great friend, boss, and businessman. But he would make a dreadful boyfriend.”

“Don’t you think he would change if he met the right woman?”

“Why?” Indira gives me her signature I-see-everything stare. “Are you nominating yourself for the role?”

My cheeks heat up and I break eye contact. “No, not at all. I was just speculating.”

“Maybe one day, who knows? But I’m sure whoever that woman will be, she’ll have to sweat blood and tears before pinning Richard down. And as much of a piece of eye candy as the boss is, that’s just too much work for me.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I say awkwardly. “Who would want that?”

***

I spend the night staring at the ceiling torn between two opposite instincts. The first, my growing forbidden crush for my boss; the other, my unchecked work ambition. Having Saskia Landon do a photo shoot for Inceptor Magazine would skyrocket my style page to fashion heaven. But the mere thought of asking Richard to intercede with his supermodel girlfriend-of-the-week makes my skin crawl. Would he ask her as they cuddled in bed?

Yuck!

Unable to sleep, I grab my tablet from the nightstand to indulge in my new favorite hobby: reading Richard’s weekly column. As Editor-in-Chief, he spends most of his time supervising other people’s work. But the boss has cut a small literary space for himself where every Monday he writes an editorial. Sometimes it’s humorous, other times it’s more serious. But every single time his writing is brilliant.

Each week, the first thing I do over breakfast is read the newest column. Forget the Monday Blues, it always puts me in a good mood. And on nights like this, when I don’t have a book or something else to read, I like to go over older pieces and get lost in his musings. Can you fall in love with someone by reading their words?

Yes.

No.

Maybe?

Anyway, Richard couldn’t just be a piece of eye candy. Oh, no. He had to be smart, witty, and inventive, too. The more time I spend with him, the harder it is not to fall under his spell. And the more I read his words, the more I feel this connection with him. As do all the other women who read the column, I’m sure. I scroll down to the comments, penned, as suspected, mainly by female users. Male readers appreciate his writing, too, but I bet women are prompted to leave a comment by the author headshot posted at the top of the page. Could a man this intelligent really be afraid of serious relationships?