Page 43 of A Deal with the Bossy Devil

I huffed and started to walk away, but stopped again when I felt his fingers gently curl around my arm.

“All right, Sanchez.” He dropped his hand. “If you’re scared enough to bring mace with you on these runs, I’m not going to force you to come with me.”

I blinked at him. “That’s what you’re worried about? Me being scared?”

“I’m not worried.”

I smirked. “You sound worried.”

He pushed a hand through his dark hair. “Let’s just go. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

“Okay, you go.” I was going to finish the run whether he was with me or not. I was already out of bed and warmed up, it felt like a bit of a waste to stop now.

My feet were moving before he could argue with me again, but instead of going back, Adrien fell into silent step beside me.

Ten seconds later, my legs and lungs and feet were cursing me for not having gone back home. Sometimes it felt like I was my own worst enemy.

* * *

The small batch of unopened letters I’d left behind yesterday had disappeared, along with the sorted piles.

The table in the conference room sat empty, leaving me with absolutely nothing to do. Adrien had officially put me on standby which was arguably worse than having too much to do.

I really couldn’t stand being bored. That was whyI’d opened that cursed box on Adrien’s desk in the first place. Boredom.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, but just as I was about to start counting the little dots on the ceiling tiles, my wrist vibrated, sending a warring mixture of dread and relief through me.

I need your DOB.

I frowned at the screen, trying to decipher what “DOB” could stand for because I didn’t think he actually wanted my date of birth. And when I couldn’t piece it together, I got up and knocked on his open office door.

“Why do you need to know when my birthday is?”

As per usual, he didn’t look up before answering. “I don’t. I need your date of birth.”

I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway. “What’s the difference?”

“Date of birth implies that I need your birth year in addition to the month and day. Which I do.”

I gave him a suspicious once-over. “Why?”

“I need it to book your flight since I’m an assistant short this week.”

My head jutted forward. “My what?”

“Your flight,” he repeated, already starting to sound exasperated with me and my incessant line of stupid questions. How dare I continue to waste his precious time?

“Where the hell am I going?” I asked. “And when?”

“BC. Tomorrow. And we’re going together.”

I reeled. “I beg your pardon?”

Adrien swerved in his chair, finally giving me his full attention. “We’re going to Victoria, British Columbia, tomorrow morning. The flight I’m on is at nine-thirty and I’m trying to book your seat.”

Is this why I hadn’t gotten any requests from him so far this morning? He’d been busy planning this shit?

I shoved a hand into my hair and tried counting backward from five.

---