Page 27 of Jealous Boss

She swallows, digs around in her purse, and hands it over.

I plant myself in front of Marty as she heads to the elevator in case he has any bright ideas about joining her.

One look at my face and he remains where he is.

Once the elevator doors shut, I step up to him.

His hands immediately jump up, palms open wide. “Hey man, I had no idea I was stepping on any toes. I only came to say hello, honest. If you’re tapping that?—”

“I could’ve sworn I just warned you to watch your fucking mouth. Also, who let you up here without an invitation? Aren’t you breaking HOA rules?”

His face sours. “You’re taking this a little far, don’t you think? I came up here with Chris down the hall. I just saw your girl and thought I’d say hey. No need to get your panties in a bunch, friend.”

“That’s just the problem, Oswald. You and I are not friends. In fact, I suggest the next time you see Pia, you pretend like she’s invisible. You don’t talk to her. You don’t look at her. You carry on walking, ideally in the other direction.”

His face is growing red. Redder. “Or what?”

My blood roars louder in my ears. “Or I’ll whisper in a few ears about that deal you have cooking.”

He pales a little. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. And you don’t handle my investments anymore. You make any moves and I’ll sue your ass into next century.”

I bare my teeth, and I see the moment he clocks how deadly serious I am about this. About Pia. “Sure, go ahead. But have you forgotten why my firm doesn’t represent you anymore? Shall I refresh your memory?”

He’s a cross between pissed and terrified.

“Cat got your tongue? Let me help you. It’s because you conveniently forgot to mention a little detail about using child slave labor for your products and urging me to lie about it to the authorities when they came sniffing around. Wasn’t it, Oswald? Maybe I need to make a few calls, get a few FCC guys interested?”

He takes several steps back. “Fuck this. I’m not listening to this bullshit?—”

“I still haven’t heard you say the words I want to hear, Marty.”

“Fine. I’ll stay away from her. I won’t look. Or talk. Or do anything.”

“Good boy. Run along now.”

He sprints to the elevator, and it opens immediately, which makes me think Pia sent it back for me. Clever girl.

Unfortunately, my mood is still black when I stash her bags in her bedroom—barely avoiding the urge to pick up the nightshirt tossed carelessly on her lilac-sheeted bed to sniff it like some deranged addict—and take the stairs three at a time back up to my floor.

She’s standing in the middle of the living room when I walk in, her eyes wide as they track my approach. “Everything okay?”

“What the fuck do you think?” I snarl, then rein myself in.

It’s not her fault she’s so damned lovely. But still…

It’s been fucking nonstop today. And I’m at my wits’ end. I clench my teeth so hard they ache. Every inch of me straining not to take. Not to ruin.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” I ask, voice low, rough. “Pia, you’re dangerous. You think I don’t see you watching me in the office? Smiling at me. Chewing your pen like that? Like you want me to?—”

“Want you to what?” she whispers.

I close the gap between us, stare down into her fucking perfect face.

Philip would bury me alive. HR would skin me.

But none of that stops me from cupping her jaw with a hand I should keep to myself. And Jesus, her skin is so soft. So smooth. So fuckingaddictive.

“You don’t belong here,” I growl. “Not in this condo. Not with me. And definitely not in my bed.” That last part comes out hoarse, like I’m saying it to myself. Like I don’t want her to hear it and decide I’m right.

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