Page 25 of The Boss Situation

The SUV takes off. Her confidence made him listen.

“What do you want?” I’m rude toward her, giving her the same energy she always gives me.

“After all of that, why would you even consider helping Josh?”

I blink at her. “To fuck you over.”

She scoffs. “I’d commit to making your life a living hell until the day I die. You’d become my personal project, Banks.”

“Oh, you’d try andfail. Just like your business.”

Her nostrils flare. She’s pissed, as she should be.

“That speech was performative bullshit. Wow. Out of all things, I didn’t think you’d be a hypocrite.”

“Ouch.” I hold my hand over my heart, pretending to be hurt. “For your opinions to fucking matter, I’d have to respect you. And I thought I’d made it clear over the years that I didn’t. I have zero respect for you, Billie. Zero.”

The vehicle eventually comes to a stop in front of my place.

I unbuckle and turn to her. “I only met with you this weekbecause I owed someone a favor. You declined. And, holy fuck, thank yousomuch for that. I won’t feel any guilt when I burn your company toash. It’s the Asher Effect. Glad you get to experience it firsthand.” I meet her eyes, trailing down to her lips.

Her mouth slightly parts. “I willneverever, everbeg for you, Banks.Ever.Not even if my life depended on it. I’d rather rot. Josh has a better chance of me taking him back, and when I say that will never happen either, I mean it.”

“I really hope you’re prepared to say goodbye to Bellamore.” I sarcastically smile at her. “I look forward to burying you so you can rot.”

I exit the SUV and slam the door harder than I intended. I move up the steps of my townhouse and unlock the door.

“Banks,” Billie yells, climbing out of the vehicle.

I walk inside, closing the door behind me. I lock it and set my beautiful trophy on the mantel.

“Banks! Let me in right now!” she hollers on the other side, pounding against the wood like I just broke up with her.

I roll my eyes as I loosen my tie.

The neighbors on both sides of my townhouse are curmudgeons and will handwrite and leave strongly worded letters in cursive about the things I do that they disapprove of. They’re worse than my parents.

I recently threw a party, and I received five handwritten complaints. If I’m watching TV late at night, I get a letter. I once had a half-dead plant on my stoop, and I got a letter. Now, if I hear a random bump in the night, I’m convinced I’ll have an envelope tucked under my door in the morning.

“Banks! Seriously!”

I groan, pulling her inside with me, and close the door. She yelps as her body crashes against mine. Billie steps away from me, and her back presses against the cool wood.

We’re close, but I cross my arms over my chest.

“What iswrongwith you? Seriously? What? What do you want?” I ask, glaring down at her.

Her lips move into a firm line. “I seriously cannot stand you.”

“Feeling is more than mutual right now. Now stop acting like an obsessed ex and leave. You’re soannoying.”

“I’m annoying? You bought the building across the street from mine to troll me. You try to drive me wild and frustrate me. You’ve had it out for me since college because your little ego was threatened by a woman being smarter than you. Now you’ve hung a gigantic sign that has everyone in the surrounding buildings talking. Not to mention, you’re teaming up with someone whohurt me.You haveno ideawhat he did to me. And after all that, you dare to call me annoying? Hilarious, Banks!” She takes a step forward, and her finger pokes into my chest. “You’re a fuckingasshole! Nothing has changed. Grow up. We’re not eighteen anymore.”

“Unbelievable. You come into my home andtry toinsult me,” I say, grabbing her wrist.

My thumb is on her pulse, and I can feel her heart rapidly pounding. My gaze pins her in place, and her breath hitches. The meaner I am, the more she responds. Probably because no one has ever treated her with the same disrespect she offers the mere peasants who bow down to her.

“What do you plan to do about it?” she says angrily.

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