Page 36 of Strictly Business

Liam used to hate it, but it never really bothered me. I like to think it’s her way of giving me little kisses.

What does catch me off guard though, is the light spilling in through the sheer, white curtains.

I blink a few times, my brain slowly booting up, trying to recall where the hell I am and if I’ve somehow entered an alternate universe, until it finally hits me.

This isn’t my apartment, or an alternate universe.

I’m in a New York Penthouse.

My boss’s penthouse.

Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I sit up and glance around the room, trying not to gape like I did when I first walked in last night. But it’s impossible. The hardwood floors gleam, polished to perfection, the vanity across from the bed looks like it was ripped straight out of an old Hollywood set, and the bed…

God, this bed.

Stretching out on the mattress, I sink into it deeper, wondering if it’s made of actual clouds.

I could write a poem about this bed.

It probably wouldn’t be good, considering I’ve never written a poem in my life, but I’d still try.

Rolling onto my stomach, I grab my phone off the nightstand, only to see a series of missed calls lighting up the screen.

Crap.

I completely forgot that the news of our engagement would be plastered everywhere by now.

I swipe through the notifications, my stomach sinking with each one.

A few more texts from my sister, along with a string of missed calls from my grandma.

But then, my eyes catch on something else. I linger on his name, the sight sending a weird, unsettling feeling through me.

Liam:

You’re engaged? What the fuck?

My heart clenches. I haven’t heard from him since he broke my heart. And now, after seeing me with someone else, he wants to contact me?

I stare at the message for a moment, wondering what on earth his message even means. But there’s no point in replying.

I can’t deal with him now. Or ever again, really.

What would I even say to him anyway?

I ignore his message, swiping away until I see a chain of texts from Sophie.

Sophie:

Are you kidding me?

How did this happen?

Why don’t I know about it?

What is going on?

I close my eyes, hating that I’m lying to them. The engagement was supposed to be a solution to Nicholas’s problem and my chance to finally get what I’ve always wanted. But it feels like everyone and their dog has something to say about it. Social media, the news—hell, even my hairdresser probably knows by now.

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