Page 25 of #Bossholes

What about her? Did you hit her over the head and drag her to your cave?

Brant

Would you two leave that poor girl alone? She’s practically half our age.

Mav

Fifteen years younger. Don’t be so dramatic, and let’s not forget, I’m not the one kidnapping her.

Me

For fuck’s sake, no one has been kidnapped.

“Miss Rhodes, if you’re in trouble, I need you to knock twice,” Maverick calls out as he opens the door to my apartment, my brother hot on his heels.

“She’s not here.” I flop down on my couch, flipping my phone between my fingers, and stare at the forbidden red fruit.

Brantley lowers himself in the chair across from me. “What about her?”

“Okay, so when she was here dropping off my suit, I caught her looking at her phone?—”

“That’s hardly a big deal.” Maverick crosses his arms, leaning against Brantley’s chair. The look he’s giving me tells me how ridiculous he thinks I’m being.

With a sigh, I loosen my tie. “It’s not a big deal, but when she realized I was here, she nearly jumped out of her skin. I thought she was having another panic attack and had dropped her phone in the process. Because I’m a gentleman, I went to pick it up for her when she snatched it out of my hand and asked if I saw anything on it.”

Brantley leans forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “She was on her phone at the office earlier today. As soon as she saw me, she tossed it in her purse and ran off. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but this seems like it’s too coincidental.”

“Did you see what was on the phone?” Maverick asks, his thumb scraping along his jaw.

As soon as I nod, Brantley stiffens. “What are we talking about here? Is she a spy for Anderson? A drug dealer?”

“Nothing like that.” I unlock my phone and hold it out toward them.

Brantley grabs it, his eyes widening as he looks at the screen. Maverick’s mouth pops open, and the two of them stare down at it for several beats before Maverick’s gaze meets mine.

“Is this for real?” Brantley glances between us. “She’s looking at auctioning off her virginity?”

Maverick shifts, blowing out a puff of air, and runs a hand through his hair. “There’s no way she’s still a virgin. None.”

“Not all of us are as cavalier with our sex lives as you are, Mav.”

“Was that your polite way of calling me a manwhore?”

“If the shoe fits.” Brantley sits back, crossing his legs at the ankle. “Regardless, we're getting off topic. How do we know Miss Rhodes was looking at this place for her and not a friend? What if she just wanted to know if a place like this existed?”

“We don’t.” I lean back on the couch, mirroring his position. “But if it’s legit, don’t you think we have an obligation to protect our employee?”

He studies me for a second, his brow raised. “From what? If she wants to meet some random stranger off the internet, who are we to stop her? We are her bosses, Wyatt, not her boyfriend.”

“I’m with Wyatt. It could be dangerous.” With a sigh, Maverick pulls out his own phone, no doubt going back to this website. “It looks like everyone wanting to participate in the auction needs to be registered by Monday.”

Brantley glances back at Mav, his frown deepening. “And what are you suggesting we do? That we register as bidders?”

“It’s not the worst plan.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Brantley scoffs. He pushes up from the chair and heads toward the front door. “The both of you need toleave that poor girl alone. If this is something she’s legitimately doing, then it’s her business, not ours. Now, I’m going to eat my dinner and pretend we didn’t have this conversation. Jesus. HR would have a field day with you guys.”

As soon as the door closes behind him, Maverick laughs as he slides down in the chair, taking Brantley’s spot. “Don’t be absurd. It’s like he doesn’t know us at all. He may want nothing to do with this, but there’s no way I can let this go. We need to register.”

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