Page 5 of The Boss Situation

“That’s right, and a lot of black markers.”

“I’ll get right on it.” She picks up the phone. “What are you up to?”

“You’ll see.” I enter my office, moving to my windows to see what the ice queen is up to.

As I approach, I notice Billie staring back at me. I’m shocked, considering this is the first time we’ve ever acknowledged one another this way. The silent conversation flows between us, and I know she’s cursing me under her breath.

What will it be, Ice Queen? What’s your next move?

I give her a wave, twinkling my fingers. I see the real her, and she doesn’t like that. She flips me off and storms out of her office, her hips swinging.

I can only imagine what’s racing through her mind.

If the roles were reversed and she were the only person on the planet who could save my company, would I accept her help? I would because I’d do anything for the success of my firm and my employees.

Billie Calloway will beg, or she’ll go bankrupt. Right now, she has everything to lose.

2

BILLIE

Iwish I could blame my current bad luck on a curse I picked up from an antique, a planet being in retrograde, or even a broken mirror. I’ve not crossed paths with a black cat, walked under a ladder, or opened an umbrella indoors. However, my life—personal and professional—sucks. That’s putting it lightly.

Unfortunately, I have nothing to blame for my current misfortunes other than myself.

Every action has a consequence. Choose wisely.

It’s something my father drilled into me when I was a kid, living in the shadows of my genius brothers. They’re nine years older than me. My father was the CEO of Calloway Diamonds for nearly four decades before he retired six months ago.

The Calloway children were educated and raised to run a multibillion-dollar company. When I turned eighteen, I was offered a position working beside my dad with a guaranteed path that would lead me straight to the top. I declined and chose to carve my path forward in the fashion world.

Basically, if I don’t solve my company’s financial problems immediately, I’ll be forced to ask a man for help. The fun part ischoosingwhichman.

Eye roll.

There are my identical twin brothers—Easton or Weston.

They’re the most powerful men in the world, Easton is the CEO and Weston is the COO of Calloway Diamonds. Throughout my life, they’vealwayssaved their baby sister. I can’t allow them to do that this time. I’ll be thirty-one soon, and I need to learn how to solve things like this without their help.

Next up is my father.

Heneverwanted me to create Bellamore and hated the idea because fashion was my mother’s passion. I genuinely believe he’s always resented my decision to do what I love instead of giving myself to the Calloway crown. Running to him with my tail between my legs would only prove him right, and I cannot give him that satisfaction.

Then there’s my mortal enemy—Asher Banks.

Total asshole. Annoying billionaire, trust-fund fuckboy. He’s ridiculously attractive with honey-colored brown eyes and dark hair. High cheekbones and a chiseled jaw that’s lined with scruff. The man is a sculpture, pure art, and he ruins it anytime he opens his gorgeous mouth. Not to mention, he comes from an extremely influential family. Some believe they’re a part of a shadow government because in the financial world, the Banks are pure royalty. Oh, and he’s one of the smartest men I’ve ever regretfully been introduced to.

Hate at first sight. It’s the only way to describe how our first meeting went. I stare off into the distance as my vision blurs.

Stanford ismagical in the fall when the leaves begin to change. I’ve always loved thebermonths, and they’re upon us now that we’re suddenly at the end of August. With my book bag tossed over my shoulder, I turn the hallway’s corner and crash into brick. Strong hands grab and steady me, and I look up into light-brown eyes. Kind eyes.

“Um, hi,” he says, smiling. It’s the perfect smile too.

“Hi,” I tell him, and time feels like it stands still. “You can let go of me now.”

“Oh, right. I’m Asher Banks.” He moves his hands from my arms, still smiling.

“Ah. I’m Billie Calloway,” I say, and his brows rise.

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