Page 71 of Sexting the Boss

Laughing, even.

At what? What the fuck is so funny?

Ryan leans in slightly, gesturing with his hands like he’s telling some charming little story.

Sasha tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, nodding along.

She’s comfortable.

She’s relaxed.

And it makes me fucking livid.

Oleg, still standing in the doorway, exhales and mutters something in Russian.

“You need help, boss.”

I finally tear my eyes away from the screen and level him with a look.

He glances pointedly at the mess on my desk, then back at me. “You want me to get you another mug?” he deadpans. “Or maybe send the Ryan kid on an extended business trip to Siberia?”

Oleg found out. He doesn’t know all the details, but when he found out what I was doing, overseeing staff transfer—something I’ve never done before, he obviously had some questions.

I push back from my desk, standing, grabbing a napkin to wipe my hand.

He watches me carefully. “What are you doing?”

I roll my sleeves up. “Getting more coffee.”

He snorts. “Right. Sure. That’s what you’re doing.”

I don’t respond.

I’m already walking out the door.

When I arrive in the kitchen, they’re both still there.

Still talking.

But they go silent when I enter the room.

I step closer, reaching for a new coffee mug from the shelf.

Neither of them move.

Neither of them breathe.

Ryan is pale, shifting awkwardly, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Good.

I take my time pouring coffee, the silence stretching.

Then—

I finally acknowledge him.

“Is it supposed to be lunch break right now?”

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