Page 30 of #Bossholes

“I don’t prance,” Wyatt mumbles, his hand going back through his hair.

Brantley sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and lets out a curse. “This is why I told you to drop it. To mind your damn business. You two are going to be the death of me. I shouldn’t have to remind you that we have a law firm to run. We have clients counting on us to handle their shit. How are the two of you supposed to do that when you can’t even handle yourselves?”

I narrow my gaze, propping my feet up on the corner of my desk. “I manage myself just fine.”

Brantley growls, legitimately growls at me. “You can barely manage to keep your eyes to yourself. Tell me one thing you’ve gotten done today.”

My eyes meet Wyatt’s, and for several beats we stare at each other. In my defense, I came into work with the intention to get work done. I had a plan. I had a list.

Then it all went to hell the second I saw Kinsley in that tight black skirt and a button-up blouse that personifies her innocence. Heaven and Hell. That’s what she is. How am I supposed to work like that? I’m a man after all. A man lusting after his secretary, his much younger virginal secretary.

“That’s what I fucking thought.” Brantley gives us each a pointed look, stalking back to my office door. “I need you working. No more delusions. No more distractions. No more thinking about our secretary. She is a professional, as are we. Act like it.”

And with that, he’s out the door, closing it behind him with a thud that echoes through my office.

Wyatt hangs his head, and I can see the remorse written all over his face.

“Don’t you dare.” I point at him, my voice stern. “Don’t you let your brother taint this. If he wants to live like a nun, that’s his prerogative, not ours. Granted, we should try to get some work done. At least in…” I glance down at my watch. “Six hours and five minutes we’ll have our answer.”

“I don’t know why I can’t get her out of my head. Lord knows I’ve tried. She works for us, for fuck’s sake, and I don’t know… Something about it feels wrong. Like we’re invading her privacy.”

“Would you rather it be someone else?”

He tilts his head back, mumbling something to my ceiling, perhaps asking it for forgiveness. If that’s what he’s looking for, he’s in the wrong place. Or, perhaps he needs a little levity. A little something to make him feel better about his day.

I smirk, my fingers trailing along the edge of my jaw. “You know, it all started when I caught her double fisting chocolate chip cookies?—”

“Don’t you say it.” His gaze meets mine, a smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s only fair she ends up double fisting us.”

“And you said it.”

I sure did. She thinks we’re Dementors; just wait until we suck the soul from her body.

Wyatt shakes his head with a chuckle. “I don’t want to know where your brain went just now.”

No, he does not. “You better get out of here before your brother grounds us. If there’s anyone who needs to get laid, it’s him.”

“Good luck telling him that.” Wyatt snorts a quick laugh. “The man has been repressed since he found out Whitney was cheating on him. Twelve years ago.”

“I’m not saying shit. He can brood in his office. All alone.” I drum my fingers along the edge of my desk, watching two more emails come in that need my attention. “Looks like Ember Lynn has finally agreed to a meeting next week. I don’t know what part of keep your mouth shut she doesn’t understand, but Brant is going to lose it on her if she posts anything else about her ex.”

“Shame I have to miss it.”

“I didn’t tell you when it is.”

“Sorry.” He shrugs, his smug smile telling me he’s anything but. “Booked solid all week.”

Fucker. Especially when I know for a fact that’s not true. Can’t say I blame him, though; she is the worst. But it’s a good thing I have something to look forward to. She’s currently sitting in her office, and I have a feeling she needs more work to do.

SEVENTEEN

Kinsley

I feel like a disaster.

With a glance down at my pen, I have to nod. Motherfucking Monday is right. I’ve been on edge all day, waiting for the clock to tick down, second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour. Time has crawled by. And I’m still no closer to making a decision. Do I sell my virginity and get enough money so I can pay for my brother’s surgery? Or do I puss out and hope I win the lottery?

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