Page 10 of The CEO I Hate

“All right, fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll give her an interview, but I’m not promising anything more than that. Paula is ruthless, so don’t get your hopes up.”

Jake’s face broke into an impossibly wide smile. “Yes! That’s all I need, man. I swear you’re gonna see. She’s perfect for the job!”

Yeah, the perfect choice to drive me up the wall.

4

MIA

“Ugh, can you believe him! He actually accused me of telling Jake about yesterday, like I’m some toddler who ran home crying because he was mean to me!” I slumped down further into the corner of the couch where I’d been fuming for the last fifteen minutes.

Thankfully, my shared apartment was just down the hall from Jake’s, so I’d promptly marched myself home and started ranting to my roommate about Liam. I hated that one cocky smirk or snarky comment from that man could incite such rage in me. Sometimes I just wanted to grab him by that chiseled jaw and?—

“Maybe youshouldhave told Jake and then he could have told Liam where to shove it,” Sophie called from the other room.

“I don’t need Jake to fight my battles for me. I’m perfectly capable of telling Liam where to shove his six-foot-two, perfectly tailored, annoyingly smug self.” Preferably right back into his mansion in Studio City, where his ego had its own private suite.

“Okay!” Sophie announced, strutting into the living room like she was headlining a Vegas revue, rocking four-inch stilettos and a burlesque costume straight out of a 1920s cabaret. The royal blue velvet corsetwas laced at the back with satin ribbon and adorned with so many rhinestones it freakingdazzled.

The thing was making me dizzy with the way it sparkled. Delicate little black feathers lined the sweetheart neckline, adding a touch of old-school glamour. “What do you think of this one?”

My jaw dropped. “It’s friggin’ gorgeous.”

“Right?” She shoved the coffee table aside and did a sensual little spin, showing off every inch of rhinestone-clad skin. Sophie had zero body shame, and it was totally normal for her to experiment with new costumes for her burlesque acts in the middle of the living room.

“I wasn’t sure the blue would be bright enough, but with the amount of sparkle, I don’t think I have to worry.”

The lavishly embellished corset was snatched so tight, Sophie’s already incredible curves had been contorted into the perfect hourglass. It was paired with a frilly, fringed skirt with tiny silk shorts underneath and a pair of long satin gloves.

Burlesque performer, roommate, and co-owner of a secret speakeasy, Sophie Alvarez was the only person I knew who could carry on a conversation about taxes and grocery shopping while also dropping it low.

There was a reason she was my best friend, and it could be summed up by the time she’d threatened to ninja kick one of my ex-boyfriends when he’d shown up to harass me at the club. And then actuallydoneit. He left with a bruised ego and a limp. I left with cake.

“The bust has so many sparkles I’mhaving trouble looking away from your boobs.”

Sophie laughed. “Because they’re fabulous.” She did a little shimmy for emphasis.

“This newcostume designeris fabulous,” I said.

“Agreed. I think I’m a little in love with her.”

I got up to pluck at the tag tucked into the back of her corset. “Sultry Stitches by Sierra,” I read out. “Oooo.”

“I know; I’m about to order one in every color.”

“I’m jealous. If I had the body to pull this off, I’d totally want one.”

“Girl, you have a bangin’ body. I keep telling you. Let me get you up on stage, and you can listen to the crowd howl.”

That was literal nightmare fodder. “God, can you imagine?”

“The tips?” Sophie said. “Yes. I’d make a killing.”

“I’m talking about me obviously pitching myself offstage. We both know I don’t have the coordination for that. It’s why I write and you dance.”

Sophie smirked, disappearing for a beat. When she returned, she was dangling something sultry, red, and sparkly from her finger. “Put it on.”

“Absolutely not,” I said, horrified.

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