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  Play Date

  An After Five Office Romance

  EmKay Connor

  Contents

  About the Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  About the Author

  About the Book

  Keene Wesley can’t live without Sabrina Davenport—she’s the world’s best executive assistant and a critical cog in the machinery that keeps his chaotic lifestyle as a billionaire CEO running smoothly. Her lush curves, Mona Lisa smile, wide baby blues and penchant for pencil skirts and stilettos are a tempting package Keene ignores…most of the time. When he discovers his uber-efficient assistant has scheduled a Valentine’s Day “adventure” for him through Single Status, he reconsiders his vow to never fire her gorgeous, glorious ass.

  All work and no play makes Keene Wesley a very boring billionaire. Sabrina is bound and determined to teach her workaholic boss how to have a little fun, with the help of Single Status, an agency that creates personalized Valentine’s Day escapades. She’s risking everything—her job, her reputation and her heart—in hopes a grown-up “play date” will convince her straight-laced but sexy-as-sin boss the fun begins when the work day ends.

  * * *

  Play Date is a sexy sassy office romance in EmKay Connor’s After Five series.

  * * *

  Each story in the After Five series ends with a happy-for-now for Keene and Sabrina as they negotiate a boardroom-to-bedroom relationship.

  1

  Sabrina Davenport knew exactly what Keene Wesley needed and exactly how to give it to him.

  She’d been the tall, dark and sexy billionaire’s Senior Administrative Coordinator, aka Executive Assistant, for two years, four months, two weeks and six days—long enough to know virtually everything about the man. Except the important stuff, like how he kissed and what positions he preferred in the bedroom.

  She had a plan to fix that.

  Right now, though, she had a crisis to head off before her boss arrived at seven thirty—on the dot. Such incidents were exactly why she made it a practice to arrive an hour before he did. It was one of her JIC policies which had quickly made her an indispensable member of Keene’s team. Raised by a mother who lived according to a mantra of “Just In Case”, Sabrina had developed a number of personality traits bordering on OCD. These characteristics served her well on the job. It was her attention to detail and the ability to anticipate—and avert—potential complications, along with an MBA from the University of San Diego School of Business Administration, that qualified her to work side by side with one of the wealthiest and most influential media magnates in the world.

  “I’m sorry, Sabrina. Mr. Cavallini told me there is absolutely no way he can make the meeting next week. His wife is halfway through her first pregnancy and apparently having some…ah…issues accepting that fact that she’s gained twenty pounds. She’s insisting they go on a babymoon. Immediately.” The tactful pause from the East Coast EA who’d called with the last-minute cancellation revealed the woman’s frustration at her boss’s indifference to the problems his wife’s demands were causing.

  “Second wife?” Sabrina guessed.

  “Third.” The woman sighed. “She’s one of those lingerie models who do the big television production.”

  “Wings and glitter?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Have you booked reservations for their trip yet?” Sabrina’s fingers flew over her keyboard as she continued the conversation via the wireless earpiece that was a much an accessory as the tasteful pearl earrings she wore.

  “Not yet. I’m clearing his calendar first.”

  “How about this?” Sabrina scanned the information scrolling across the three large computer screens sitting side by side on her glass-top desk. “I can have the Wesley corporate jet there on Monday. Do you think Mr. and Mrs. Cavallini would enjoy a visit to sunny Southern California? I could make reservations at the Montage Beverly Hills. Perhaps your boss can meet with my boss while his wife enjoys some special attention at the hotel spa. He can then join her for a shopping spree at the Rodeo Drive mom and baby boutiques.”

  “It’s February in New York City. Los Angeles sounds like paradise right now.” A touch of envy tinted the woman’s words.

  Sabrina added a note to her digital task minder to send her East Coast counterpart a huge floral bouquet. Something bright and colorful.

  “Let me put you on hold while I get Mr. Cavallini’s approval. Oh, any possibility of scheduling tee time at the Hillcrest Country Club? I’m sure that would cinch it.”

  “How about the Riv instead?”

  “The Riviera? That’s his favorite course.”

  “Great. I’ll consider the Friday meeting confirmed. I’ll send over an itinerary in the next hour. Just don’t let anyone else make you a better offer when you cancel their meetings.”

  “The celebrity treatment is exactly what Mrs. Cavallini needs right now. If her baby bump gets enough attention, maybe she’ll finally embrace being pregnant.”

  What the woman meant was that if her boss’s wife got over her insecurities, life would be easier for her boss, ergo, life would be easier for her.

  Wives and children often complicated life for C-Suite executives. Most were type-A overachievers who believed they could do it all and have it all. Most failed to recognize how much effort and ingenuity was required on the part of their support staff to make that happen.

  Keene Wesley was single and happily so. His last “date” had been a trip down the red carpet at the Oscars with a well-known actress. Her real-life boyfriend, a classmate of Keene’s from Stanford, abhorred the spotlight and paparazzi. The trade-off worked well for both parties. Keene’s pal trusted the escort squiring his movie-star girlfriend around town and the casual-but-regular outings implied Keene was off the market.

  If there was anything her boss hated, it was messy emotional entanglements that complicated his carefully orchestrated life. The man thrived on routine, which was both a boon and a challenge.

  Sabrina disconnected the call and quickly sent off a batch of emails to arrange travel and accommodations for Mr. and Mrs. Cavallini. A discreet alarm chimed on her iPhone, alerting her to Keene’s arrival in the lobby thirty floors below the floor occupied by Wesley Entertainment Media corporate offices. She headed to the galley kitchen that was part of their suite to prepare his morning espresso before printing off a copy of his schedule for the day.

  “Running behind schedule this morning?”

  Humor laced her boss’s voice, a baritone every bit as dark and seductive as the espresso scenting the air.

  Sabrina was still squaring the paperwork in the center of his desk. She was usually out of his office before he strode through the connecting door. She glanced at the slim Rolex on her wrist—her Christmas bonus from last year—and permitted herself a genuine grin instead of the aloof Mona Lisa smile she usually gave him.

  “Perhaps you’re running ahead of schedule. Did you catch a break in the L.A. traffic?”

  She slid past him, close enough to savor the subtle nuances of masculine bergamot, pepper and ocean air. Her stomach tightened with pleasure, both from physical awareness and the knowledge he was wearing her favorite cologne. They’d been browsing the duty-free shop at Heathrow, bad weather having delayed their flight, when Keene asked her opinion on men’s fragrances. Since then, she noticed, it was the only cologne he wore.

  Over the past few months, the dynamics of their relationship had shifted. The changes were so infinitesimally incremental she might have missed them were she not hyperaware of her boss’s every action and expression. Keene’s hardline pr
ofessionalism had softened. Six months ago he never would have teased her. Never would have asked her opinion on something as personal as cologne. Never would have looked at her like he was trying to puzzle something out. Never would have brushed close enough that she felt his body heat.

  He was doing all of those things and more. Asking the occasional question about her family, her friends, what she did in her off-time…what little of it there was. Raising his eyebrows to send a private message of impatience to her when a meeting was dragging on. Scrutinizing her when she laughed and joked with the hunky UPS delivery guy who happened to be happily married with a brand-new baby on the way.

  Were these changes just the natural evolution of familiarity wrought by working sixty-plus hours a week with someone for more than two years or was her billionaire boss sending out “I’m interested” vibes?

  “Sabrina? Do you…need something?”

  She realized Keene was looking at her expectantly. She was still standing beside his desk.

  “Sorry. I drifted there for a moment.” She nodded toward the panoramic view of downtown L.A. gilded bronze in the early morning sun, trying to ignore the flush heating her cheeks. “You can see all the way to the Pacific this morning.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked upward, as if he knew she was groping for an excuse to cover her uncharacteristic vapidity.

  “Yes, the view is spectacular.” Moss-green eyes shining with intelligence remained locked on hers for a split-second before Keene dropped into his chair. Not for a second had he glanced at the skyline.

  Oh, to have all that attention center on her. A shiver of anticipation rippled down her back. She wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or fear.

  The skin between her shoulder blades burned, as if his gaze was lasering a hole through her as she left his office and returned to her own. The heat spread to her belly, then lower until it felt like her lady parts were melting. She grabbed a bottled water from the kitchenette and chugged it, metaphorically trying to douse the fire he’d lit before it scorched her panties.

  Keene might be attracted to her, but he was her boss. Hard and fast parameters defined the propriety of their professional association. He’d made a point of being clear that theirs was a working relationship. He had zero time to waste on yet another EA looking to promote from the boardroom to the bedroom.

  Sabrina’s careful efforts to not cross those boundaries were why she’d outlasted any of the other assistants he’d hired. She’d proven herself to be trustworthy, hardworking, ambitious and intelligent.

  Did Keene trust her so much he’d lowered his guard when it came to the casual flirtation that often developed between attractive men and women who worked together?

  Or was there more too it?

  It was a tough call. He was never inappropriate, never made suggestive comments, never acted provocatively. They could go days before a sudden burst of tension sparking the air between them, but the intervals were becoming shorter.

  The worst part? She’d been in love with Keene Wesley for more than a year. He was gorgeous, insanely ambitious and a flaming workaholic. She wanted to know what other qualities lay beneath his bespoke suits, but most of all, she wanted to show him how to have a little fun. Working seven days a week and escorting other guys’ women around town wasn’t much of a life.

  In less than forty-eight hours, Sabrina would have an answer. If she was wrong, she might lose her job but that would be small beans compared to having her heart broken.

  2

  Off-limits.

  Keene tried to pull his eyes off the tight ass covered in shiny black fabric that hugged the perfect curves like plastic wrap, but it was impossible. Resisting Sabrina Davenport’s well-endowed figure required Herculean strength, and he was only human.

  You’re also her boss.

  The annoying little voice continuously reminding him his voluptuous assistant was off-limits piped up again. He wished he could play whack-a-mole and silence the holier-than-thou angel perched on his right shoulder to make way for the devil on his left, urging him to fill his hands with warm, firm flesh.

  “I know I put the Pan-Pacific paperwork back in this drawer,” she muttered, stepping French-manicured fingertips over folder tabs in search of the file needed for their four o’clock meeting.

  Keep looking, Keene thought, eyes roving from the black stilettos that caused her calves to tighten, up to her delicately arched back that flared into wide hips and that sweet, sweet ass. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was posing like that intentionally.

  Except that in the two-plus years she’d worked for him—with him—she’d not exhibited one iota of provocative behavior. She seemed immune to the qualities that attracted most women, namely the row of zeroes behind his net worth. Sure, he was good-looking and had a decent personality, but there was no missing the dollar signs that ka-chinged in the pupils of lined and mascaraed eyes when he was introduced to members of the fairer sex.

  For a lot of years, he’d neglected his love life to focus on creating Wesley Entertainment Media. His singe goal was to take the cutting-edge concept developed by his father and turn it into a money-making venture. He never guessed the innovative technology would redefine delivery of digital media such as music and movies.

  Walter Wesley had been content to putter with his gadgets, leaving Keene and his younger brother to fend for themselves most of the time. Mealtimes were erratic, homework unchecked, household tasks left undone. By the time Keene was a freshman in high school, he was running like household like a four-star general. School assignments were completed before an hour of TV. Dinner was on the table at seven. Bedtime was ten. Chores were rotated each week. Structure filled the void left by their mother’s death, the consistency of routine a soothing contrast to a world where nothing, not even family, was a sure thing.

  That need for control and stability followed Keene into adulthood. He did not enjoy having his routine disrupted. He disliked capricious people. He avoided situations with a high degree of unknown variables. He prided himself on being self-disciplined and self-possessed.

  Except when Sabrina tossed a glossy sable curl over her shoulder and tempted him to fall into her deep, blue eyes.

  He gave himself a mental shake, but his eyes remained latched on her rear. He couldn’t remember when she’d started wearing her hair down. For the longest time, she’d worn the thick length in a tidy bun at her nape. Her pumps had been practical, her suits modest.

  But now the heels were higher and the skirts shorter. Her hair tempted him to coil the strands around his fingers. Siren-red lipstick practically begged to be smudged with a kiss that would leave them both breathless. He shifted in his seat, the crotch of his pants uncomfortably tight.

  “Ah, here it is.” She tugged the folder from the file drawer and straightened, pivoting to hand him the documents.

  Time to quit ogling his assistant and focus on business.

  But focusing on her is so much more pleasurable.

  He should probably whack-a-mole the devil encouraging him to misbehave, except the little guy was right. Indulging in the tasty eye candy Sabrina presented was so much more appealing than finalizing the Pan-Pacific proposal.

  Keene laid a hand atop the folder, but did not open it. He watched Sabrina fold herself gracefully into the chair across from him. “Since I’m making you work late tonight, why don’t I treat you to dinner. What’s the name of that Chinese place with the dim sum you like?”

  She tilted her head, as if there was something curious about his offer. “You make me work late most nights. It comes with the job.”

  “Yes, well, I know, but…” He fumbled for words like an awkward teenager confronting tits in a tight sweater for the first time. “Usually, I pick when we order in.”

  “That’s fine,” she assured him. “I’m not picky.”

  He knew that. He’d become fascinated by Sabrina as his awareness of her became more attuned, sharper. Gone was the efficient young woman he�
�d hired to help manage his professional existence, replaced with a complex, multidimensional individual who made him itchy and edgy.

  A smart, sensual woman who made it impossible to concentrate on business. What he really wanted to do was sneak away with her to a place where there were no rules defining their relationship.

  Not part of the plan, he reminded himself. A fling with Sabrina would jeopardize the carefully constructed balance he’d achieved by finding the perfect EA. She managed a significant portion of his existence, running interference to smooth out any bumps in the road that might slow him down.

  As much as he wanted to explore the chemistry brewing between them, it was more important to maintain the equilibrium they’d achieved in the workplace.

  Mentally taking a cartoon sledgehammer to the angel and devil riding him, Keene buried the compulsion to push the limits just a little bit further. It wasn’t right. More importantly, it wasn’t fair to Sabrina.

  “You’d probably appreciate getting off at a decent hour more than carryout dim sum,” he mused. “What’s on the calendar for tomorrow? Anything we need to prep for tonight?”

  He tapped a command into his phone, then frowned. “What’s this ‘executive team building retreat’? I don’t remember approving that.”

  A blush stained Sabrina’s cheeks and her eyes flicked away from his. “You seemed pleased at the results of last year’s team building event so I took the initiative and organized something for upper management.”

  His employees had enjoyed the food truck cook-off that pitted Marketing and Sales against H.R. and Finance, and the annual workforce survey demonstrated an increase in job satisfaction. Keene wasn’t big on such activities, but he trusted Sabrina’s judgement. She had innate warmth that made her approachable, as well as an intuitive ability to relate to people to a personal level.