She had made the same mistake again. Sex with Simon was even better the second time, and that terrified her. Terrified her because she knew this could easily turn into an obsession. And unhealthy addiction that could torpedo her career. Damn it, what would people in the industry say about her if word got out that she went to bed with her boss?

As quietly as she could, Heather climbed out of bed. Simon’s eyes were still closed. He was still fast asleep, thank goodness. Breathing a sigh of relief, Heather grabbed her clothes from the floor and crept into the bathroom to put her clothes back on.

What to do now? Sticking around to have an awkward conversation with her boss was the last thing she wanted to do. What she needed to do was find a place to gather her thoughts. Think of a plan to deal with her own screw-ups.

Silently, she walked out of the bathroom, grabbed her handbag, and headed out of their hotel room. Her best bet was to take a walk outside. Clear her head and think. And she really needed to start thinking clearly as soon as possible. If she kept being a servant to what her body wanted, she’d probably never stop having sex with Simon.

When she made it to the lobby she noticed the bar on the far end. A drink for courage wouldn’t hurt. Right now, she needed all of the courage she could muster.

Squaring her shoulders, she headed into the bar and stepped up to the bar counter.

The bartender approached her. “Hi. Welcome. What’ll it be?”

“I guess I could have a martini,” Heather replied.

“Excellent choice,” the bartender said with a smile. “One martini coming right up.”

The martini turned into three more. Then it turned into vodka and some other fruity drinks that Heather didn’t know the name of.

“I think I might be drunk,” Heather said loudly to the bartender.

“That’s been known to happen around here,” the bartender replied, a playful smile on her lips. “Do you want some water to take some of the edge off?”

“No, water’s boring.” Heather knew she was slurring her words, but with her brain pretty much soaked in alcohol none of that seemed to matter. Besides, she made awful decisions even when sober, so it wasn’t like alcohol could do any worse. “How about a shot of tequila?”

“Drowning your sorrows?” the bartender asked, reaching for a shot glass.

“Yes,” Heather replied, slumping forward. “I’ve done a very bad thing.”

The bartender arched a slender eyebrow. “What did you do?”

“I’d kill you, but I’d have to tell you.” Heather laughed. “I meant...never mind. Can’t say.”

“Guy problems?” the bartender asked.

Heather’s eyes widened. “How’d you know?”

The bartender shrugged. “Just a guess.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t want this guy,” Heather said. “He’s way out of my league anyway.”

The bartender set the shot glass down in front of her and Heather took an eager swig.

“Man, I haven’t been drunk in so long I forgot what it was like,” Heather slurred. “I don’t know why I haven’t done this sooner.”

“Not a lot of fun in your life, huh?” The bartender started wiping down the counter with a rag.

“Nope. All I do is take care of my family and go to work. And I tried being what my stupid ex-husband wanted, but was it good enough?” Heather narrowed her eyes. “No. I’ve had no fun for years. And now this hot guy comes along and he’s fun, even if he is an uptight stick in the mud. But I can’t have him.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t want me. Not really. All he wants to do is run his company or whatever. Plus, I can’t tell him the truth about me. I’ve got to keep all my secrets if I want to keep this job. And I need this job. Need to show everyone that I’m not some sad single mom with no life.” Heather hiccupped and then waved her glass. “More tequila.”

Her cell phone chimed, and she retrieved it from her handbag. Heather frowned at the new text. Without her glasses she couldn’t read a word. She started texting back, then shoved her cell phone back into her bag. Whoever was trying to get a hold of her could wait.

The bartender served her another tequila.

A firm hand on her shoulder made her look up. “Heyyyy, Simon.”

Her boss stared at her with a frown. “You’re drunk.”

“As a skunk.” She started giggling. “You should have a drink, too.”

“I don’t drink,” he muttered.

“Oh, for shit’s sake, lighten up, Simon,” she said shrilly. “Would having a little fun kill you?”

“How many drinks have you had?” he demanded.

She waved her hands around. “This many.” Heather paused. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I woke up and found you gone,” he said coldly. “Then I sent you a text and when I got gibberish in response I figured you were impaired somehow. Looks like I was right. You’ve had one too many drinks.”

She laughed. “Joke’s on you, pal; I’ve had way more than one drink.”

The harsh expression on his face softened and he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I was worried about you. When I saw that you weren’t there I thought something bad might have happened to you.”

She shivered at his touch. He always made her tingly all over when he touched her. “Awwww, you do care.”

“The panic about your wellbeing lasted for no more than a second,” he said sharply. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

“That’s not what you said upstairs after I took off my clothes—”

“Not here,” he said, cutting her off. He took her arm. “Let’s talk somewhere private.”

“We can sit at one of the booths here,” she suggested.

His jaw clenched in obvious annoyance, but he nodded. “Fine. Come with me.”

She let him take her hand in his as he led her across the bar, to an empty booth on the far end of the place. The booth was dimly lit and private, so she slid into the seat across from him.

“You’re obviously too drunk to have a serious discussion,” Simon muttered. “So, we’ll stay here while you sober up.”

“Are you mad at me?” she asked suddenly.

“No,” he said harshly. He must have seen the sad expression forming on her face because he sighed and reached across the table to take her hands in his. “I’m not mad at you, Heather. I’m mad at myself.”

She tilted her head. “Why are you mad at yourself? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’ve made a mess of everything,” he said.

“Mistakes happen,” she said.

“Not to men like me,” he said. “Everything in my life is ordered. Precise. My life is completely free of chaos or drama. At least it used to be.”

“Until I showed up and ruined everything,” she said miserably.

He shook his head. “You could never ruin anything, Heather.” His brow furrowed and he sighed heavily.

Simon looked so troubled that it sent a tremor of guilt through her. This was all her fault, and there was only one way to make it better. One way to fix her mistake. If Simon knew the truth, he would stop blaming himself. If she told him about what she had done at her old job, and why her marriage had ended, he’d have to see things her way.

Leaning towards him, she dropped her tone conspiratorially and said, “Simon, I’m ready to tell you all my secrets.”