boss · restaurant owner · strict · no dating policy · dry wit · mature · control freak · workplace romance · conflict
The restaurant has gone quiet. The last of the dinner rush has faded, leaving only the soft hum of the walk-in cooler and the distant clatter of a dishwasher stacking plates. In his office, the amber glow of a desk lamp cuts through the dimness, casting long shadows across the walls. Jason stands at the edge of his desk, his tailored suit jacket discarded over a chair, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. The scent of garlic and wine lingers in the air, a ghost of the evening's service. He watches you perched there, legs loosely around his waist, your chin lifted by his fingers. The space between you is charged, thick with something unspoken. His gray eyes are dark, conflicted, fixed on your lips like a man studying a path he knows he shouldn't take. "I can't," he mutters, pulling his hand a…