Page 79 of The Boss Situation

This woman has a choice between a literal prince or Asher. I honestly don’t know who I’d pick.

I’m convinced Billie Calloway is God’s favorite.

This was tonight at Diamond! OMG, does Louis know?

I bet Josh Lustre didn’t see that coming. Yikes.

Thank God! I was hoping she’d choose you. Prince Louis is a douche!

This is the only time I’ve ever seen a hair out of place on her head.

This will take over the internet tomorrow.

The comments continue on for what feels like a mile.

My jaw locks tight, and I feel my temper rising as a soft knock echoes on my door.

I set my phone down, happy for the escape as I move to answer it.

I glance through the peephole, hoping it’s Harper because she randomly stops by. But it’s not my best friend. It’s my mortal enemy.

Banks.

16

ASHER

“Special delivery,” I say, knowing she’s peeking at me through the peephole. I take a step back and lift the lid. “Okay, you have to admit, it looks good. I’mnottalking about the pizza.”

She groans on the other side of the door. “Go away!”

I lean in closer to the crack. “You don’t want me to.”

Billie immediately swings the door open. She’s rocking bright yellow shorts that cling to her like a second skin and a graphic T-shirt that she transformed into a stylish grunge look. It shows her stomach and the curve of her hips. Proof that she can makeanythinglook sexy.

“What do you want, Banks?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Wait.” I pause, letting my eyes slide down her body and back up again. “You actually own clothes that aren’t black?Shocking.”

She rolls her eyes. “How did you get past the doorman?”

“I have my ways,” I explain.

“You’re so annoying,” she counters.

“Would you like some?” I hold the box open, letting the mouthwatering aroma of cheese, pepperoni, and freshly baked dough waft into the hallway.

“Are you talking about the pizza this time?” Billie licks her lipsand pushes the door open wide enough for me to step inside. Her blue eyes glint with mischief.

“Are you drunk?” I ask, knowing that when she drinks, she can get wild.

I remember countless college frat parties where my eyes stayed glued on her all night. There was no way I’d let any of my friends near Billie. Every last one of them wanted to bang her, but they’d have used her. Un-fucking-acceptable.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” she warns.

I walk past her without hesitation.

“Wow,” I whisper, stopping to admire the vibrant paintings on the walls and the vintage furniture.

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