Page 23 of Sending Nudes to My Boss

Paperwork plus that annoying little detail about getting Dot to agree to marry me.

But one thing at a time.

“I’m speaking to you directly because I thought I would spare you the expense and embarrassment of a lawsuit.”

“Excuse me?” she narrows her eyes. “What are you saying?”

I pull the paperwork from my briefcase and slap the stack down in front of Heather. Her birdlike features seem to sharpen even more as she glances down. I see recognition in her eyes as she scans the dozens of screenshots.

One star review after one star review. Under fake names. On every platform possible.

I can’t believe a person could have such a bone to pick with Dot that they’d spend their precious time doing something like this. But after confirming it with my cybercrimes guy – just another person who owes me a favor – it’s the truth.

Heather’s IP address is behind every single one of these accounts.

“So Dot is a shitty photographer,” Heather rolls her eyes, trying to affect a dispassionate expression. “You’re going to sue me because she can’t run a successful business?”

“I’m going to sue you for fraud, defamation, harassment, and anything else the judge lets me throw at you,” I snap, dropping all pretenses. “I’m going to run you into the ground using all of my resources, and believe me, I’ve got more time and passion for this than you do. You’ll lose the lawsuit, but not before you drain your savings account defending yourself.”

Her eyes widen. She doesn’t look so tough now. Like every bully I’ve ever met, she folds quickly and easily.

She shoves the screenshots back at me. One of them flies off of the pile, fluttering and landing by my shoe.

“This is extortion.”

“Is it?” I ask. “I don’t think so.”

“Of course it is. What kind of lawyer are you?” she snarls. “You’re obviously extorting me. You want me to remove my reviews in exchange for -”

“Yourreviews?” I raise a brow and Heather realizes what she’s just said.

I straighten the rumpled stack of screenshots, picking up the one from the floor.

“I mean, those reviews. I didn’t write them. I just mean, you want me to -”

Once again, I push the stack of papers in front of her, rising from the table. Then I lean down, quietly speaking my next words in her ear.

“You have twenty-four hours.”

Fuck, I’ve always wanted to say that to an opponent.

I grin at Heather’s wide-eyed expression before grabbing what’s left of my croissant and heading out the door.

There’s one more thing on my to-do list tonight. And then I can finally see my girl again.

Dot’s eyes widen when she sees the bouquet in my hand.

I’m standing outside the photography studio, where she said she’d still be when I called her earlier. Here I am, waiting for that big, warm glowing smile to break across her face. Any minute now.

But it doesn’t. Instead, she’s staring at the dozen red roses like she’s just seen a ghost.

“What’s wrong?” I frown. “Are you allergic?”

She shakes her head, slowly reaching for the roses and taking them from my hand.

“No, no,” she murmurs. “It’s really thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.”

Immediately, I can sense that something’s wrong.

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