Page 84 of The Boss Situation

“Exactly,” she replies through gritted teeth. “Do you get off on buying property right next to me? First, the building for your business, and now this? What’s your actual deal?”

“I only bought it to enjoy the seventy-one-foot indoor pool in the winter,” I explain. “I prefer my townhome to the loft though.”

“You paid twenty million dollars just to swim in a pool?” She narrows her eyes at me.

“Yep,” I say. “My trust fund more than covered it.”

“You’re incredibly annoying.”

“Thanks. Itry.” I close the door in her face, then watch her through the peephole.

She scoffs and blinks at the door, slowly shaking her head. I think she’s in shock.

Billie places her thumb over the hole.

“You’re such a …” She stops talking. “You’ve been my neighbor, and I don’t even know what to fucking say. I can’t believe this.”

I chuckle. “There are more revelations just waiting for you, princess.”

She pounds her fist against the wood. “It’s not funny. You’re terrorizing me!”

I swing the door open. “You’re literally the terror in this situation. Am I at your house, having a meltdown?”

Billie inhales deeply. “You know what? You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I am having a breakdown at your door because you pushed me to my fucking limit. I hope you’re happy.”

A grin creeps onto my lips as I lean against the door. “I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

“Now I’m convinced you’re the actual devil,” she says, attempting to walk away.

I grab her hand, pulling her back in front of me. “Is that why I’m so bad for you?”

“Maybe,” she says, her brow lifting playfully. “There are plenty of other reasons why.”

“List them,” I challenge, intrigued. “Tell me why you hate me, Little Calloway. I’m still not sure.”

Her breath hitches as her chest rises and falls. Her nipples are hard, clearly visible through the thin fabric of her almost-vintage T-shirt. The elevator dings open, and Mrs. Chambers, our other neighbor, catches sight of us. Her silver hair glimmers in the foyer’s overhead light. She immediately beams at us.

“I figured I’d run into you two,” she says with a wink. “Wait until LadyLux hears about this.”

“Mrs. Chambers, please, it’s not what it looks like,” Billie interjects.

She’s a feisty old woman, a widow of an oil tycoon from Wyoming. Her brother owns one of America’s most successful cattle ranches.

“Hand me your phone,” she says, holding out her palm.

I pull it from my pocket, and she opens the camera, snaps a photo, and hands it back.

“What does that look like to you?”

Billie glances at the photo, and a grin spreads across my face.

I step forward and hug Mrs. Chambers. “Thank you so much for this.”

“Honey, I want what you’ve been drinking.”

“Delete that,” Billie pleads, reaching for my phone, but I lock it.

“No way,” I counter, blocking her every move. “This is gold.”

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