Page 22 of Bossy Trouble

He can’t get away with doing this to me.

The thought echoed inside my mind, stoking my rage higher and higher.

I was going to do something. I didn’t know what yet, but it was going to be something bad.

Because I couldn’t just do nothing.

I couldn’t let Donovan get away with what he did. He already got away with too much. The world bent over backward to accommodate men like Donovan. Fate stepped on the backs of people like me just to make people like him happy. It was what made him cruel and what made this all seem pointless.

And you know what pissed me off even more?

He didn’t even have the decency to call me himself and tell me about what he did. I assumed a cruel bastard like Donovan would feel the need to gloat about his mean trick, but no. No heads up, no call, no nothing.

I didn’t know if I would have felt much better if he had. It wasn’t like I could have done anything to stop him, but it would…I don’t know. Maybe it would have given me a chance to tell him what an asshole he was or convince him not to go through with it.

Ha.A snide voice in my head.You still think you have the ability to convince Donovan of anything.

The voice was right. Donovan likely hadn’t called because he didn’t care all that much about what he did. He probably did stuff like this every day—stealing people’s entire life’s work like it was nothing. This was likely just an average Tuesday to him, while to me, it was more like my world was ending.

The end of my world wasn’t even a blip on his radar.

But he would pay for it. One way or another, I was going to make sure of it.

I didn’t have any clear recollection of the Uber drive to Donovan’s office. It was spent in silent seething anger that ultimately led to me muttering like a crazy person in the back seat. I saw the driver glance at me several times in concern, and that only angered me more. That was Donovan’s fault, too—that the driver thought I was a raving lunatic. On top of everything else today, that felt like the straw that broke the camel’s back. By the time I finally arrived at his office, I was a keg waiting to go off.

I charged toward the entrance of Dresden Inc., ready to do some damage, but then a body suddenly intercepted my progress.

A body that was holding a branded cup of coffee.

That immediately ended up spilling on his jacket at the moment of impact.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I said, my manners instantly kicking in. I instinctively reached out but stopped just short of touching the stain that was now spreading across the front of his shirt. I glanced up at the man. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going."

“It’s fine.” The man didn’t look irritated, but he didn’t look pleased either. Somehow, he managed not to look like anything. He was handsome in a classic way, with windswept blonde hair that curled over his forehead and glassy blue eyes, but his expression was as bland as could be. “It won’t stain.”

“You sure?” I asked. I had no idea if coffee could do damage or not, but his shirt looked expensive. I knew fabric, and it looked like it cost at least my rent.

“Yes.”

“But your shirt….”

“Is just a shirt,” he said firmly. That seemed to be the end of the conversation.

“Um, okay.” I prepared to walk away. “Sorry again.”

“Wait,” he suddenly said, and I turned back. “I want to talk to you.”

I raised my eyebrow, pointing at myself. “To me?”

“Yes.”

I blinked at him, wondering what he wanted to talk to me about. Was this a pickup scenario? But he didn’t look particularly interested in me, at least not in that way. Although, with this guy, it would be hard to tell.

“Do I know you?” I asked curiously. I felt like I would remember if we’d met, but he acted like we had some familiarity.

“No,” he answered. “But I know you. And I know that Donovan Dresden just stole your company and is likely using it as a front for something very illegal.”

It took me a second to register the words out of his mouth. And then the full magnitude of what he said flew right into me and got me shaking my head. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

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