He's not my dad

part 20

I had barely made it to the hallway when I heard the soft echo of heels behind me.

“Taylor,” a voice called, crisp and measured. I turned—and froze. Greg was standing there, perfectly still, the same sharp suit from the meeting, but this time… his eyes lingered on me a moment longer than necessary.

“Sir,” I said, keeping my voice professional, though my heart was racing.

“Miss White,” he corrected automatically, and I winced. Even out here, the formal tone made my stomach twist. “You’re not running off yet, are you?”

I shook my head. “No, just… heading to my desk.

He stepped closer, just enough that I could feel the faint scent of his cologne. “I have to admit,” he said, voice softer now, more measured, “the shift in your… demeanor during the meeting… it was surprising. I didn’t expect you to respond with such professionalism. I’m used to seeing a different… side of you.”

I swallowed. “I… I followed your lead"

“Of course,” he said, almost reluctantly. Then, he paused, as if weighing his next words. “It’s just… a little disconcerting. We’ve been… friendly, casual, even at the ball, and now it’s all Miss White and notes and reports. You’re aware that it’s… noticeable?”

I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, though my cheeks burned. It was him who started with the formalities.

He smirked, and for the briefest moment, that familiar twinkle—playful and teasing—returned. Then he straightened again. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, lowering his voice slightly. “About… your… personal life.”

I felt my pulse spike. “Sir?”

“Your relationship with my son… Chuck,” he said carefully, each word deliberate. His eyes searched mine. “Are you… involved with him exclusively? Or is this… casual?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the question. “We’ve… been keeping things casual,” I said cautiously, careful not to reveal too much. "Until yesterday" I add

His brow furrowed slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Casual?” he repeated. “I see. And… I don’t want to be intrusive, but… do you spend much time together"

“Yes,” I admitted, feeling suddenly nervous under his gaze. “We… see each other often"

Greg’s eyes narrowed slightly, a faint crease forming between his brows. “And you’re… happy with that arrangement?” His tone was still polite, but I caught a subtle edge of concern—or maybe it was curiosity.

I smiled faintly, shrugging. “I am. He’s… fun, and we get along. That’s important, right?”

His lips twitched, the hint of a smile threatening to break through. “Yes… important. I just… I suppose I need to keep an eye on the situation. I can’t have my son being… distracted. Or taken advantage of.”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “I promise I’m not taking advantage,” I said lightly, trying to keep the mood from tipping into tension.
He studied me, gaze lingering, and for a moment, it felt like he was weighing whether I was serious—or just teasing him. Then, almost abruptly, he leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Still… I’ve never seen you look so… flushed. Is this… nerves? Or something else?”

I laughed lightly, trying to cover the thrum of my pulse. “Probably a bit of both, I'm still surprised that my boyfriend is my bosses son”

He smirked again, stepping back just enough to regain his composure, though the playful glint never fully left his eyes. “I suppose I’ll have to watch you carefully. Both at work… and outside of it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you… threatening me, sir?”

“No,” he said, feigning innocence, though his lips curved upward. “I’m merely… advising. Consider it… friendly counsel from your boss’s boss.”

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head.

He chuckled at my stumble, the tension easing slightly. “Good. Now… go to your desk, Miss White. And keep your personal escapades from affecting your professional life. For the sake of my peace of mind.”

I bit back a laugh as I walked away, heart racing. “Yes, sir,” I said, trying not to smile too widely.

As I rounded the corner, I whispered under my breath, “Why is it so impossible to have a normal boss?”

I knew one thing for certain—Greg Groves was a mystery I had no idea how to solve. And somehow, I didn’t want to.

......

Once Greg left the floor, I practically sprinted to Kate, my voice a whisper, though my excitement made it impossible to keep it down. “Kate! You are not going to believe this—Chuck… he’s Mr. Groves’ son!”
Kate’s jaw dropped. “Wait… what? The tattooed rock god, Chuck, is Greg Groves’ son? The CEO?”
I nodded furiously. “I didn’t know either! I mean, we never exchanged last names—I only know him as Chuck!”
Before Kate could respond, Jack’s voice cut through, loud and gleeful. “You’re dating Charles Groves and you didn’t even know he’s your boss’s son? That is legendary! Oh man, this is amazing!”
I groaned, waving him off. “We literally never mentioned last names. I didn’t know! Stop laughing!”
Kate grabbed my arm, shaking her head in disbelief. “Speak of the devil…” she muttered.
I turned—and sure enough, Chuck was striding toward my desk, all casual confidence, leather jacket slung over his arm. My heart skipped. I straightened up quickly, hoping I didn’t look like a giddy schoolgirl.
“What are you doing here?” I asked breathlessly as he leaned in and kissed my cheek.
“I’ve been working with my dad for the past few weeks,” he said, smirking. “I’m being groomed to take over the business one day. Figured I’d check in and see my favorite… employee.”
I blinked, trying to process. “Wait… what about the band?”
He shrugged casually. “The band’s still my first priority. But I promised my dad I’d at least try to integrate the business into my life. Keep an open mind about the future, you know?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Open mind, huh? Sounds like a compromise.”
He grinned, leaning closer. “Maybe. But it gives me a reason to see you more often.” His lips brushed my ear as he whispered it, and I felt my cheeks heat up.
“Can you… join us for lunch?” he asked, still smiling.
I nodded, unable to stop the grin creeping across my face. He kissed my cheek again, lingering just a moment longer this time before striding off toward his own desk.
I turned—and froze. My boss, Mr. Benjamin, was standing a few feet away, arms folded, watching me with an unreadable expression. He gave me a slow, deliberate nod and gestured toward his office.
Shit. Am I about to get in trouble? I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and followed him toward the door, my mind racing. Was it because of Chuck, or had I really messed up something work-related without realizing it?
The office door closed behind me with a soft click, and the day suddenly felt like it had just turned into a tightrope walk—one I wasn’t sure I could navigate without falling.