Page 11 of Broken Boss

Autumn

I don’t bother looking up as I frantically text Orla, asking her if she fed Frank and can take him out one last time.

It’s just after 7 p.m. Everyone has gone home, and the cleaning crew is already wrapping things up. The building, like most buildings in New York, isn’t dark. But it’s quiet and the emptiness is unsettling.

What I wouldn’t give to just have Frank here with me. For company, but also because I feel horrible. Two weeks working at Sharpe Law and I’ve barely had time for my poor pup. I’ll definitely need to spoil him sometime soon.

The blue glow of my cell lights the hallway as I hurry down it, away from the receptionist area where the paperwork I require was finally faxed after an entire day of not receiving it. It’s literally the last thing I need to get this case rolling—one of the cases that will prove to Chris Sharpe that I deserve the position of partner.

One of the cases that will get me where I must be to take him down.

I turn the corner into my office and in the dim light, it’s almost like I can see him there all over again. Dark hair, dark eyes, that dimpled smirk.

A shiver runs down my spine as confusion clouds my mind.

What the hell am I thinking?

Why can’t I get him out of my head?

I shouldn’t be fantasizing about the way he walked toward me that day…about the way my body seemed pulled toward him.

In a rush, I go to my desk and gather everything. Tote, phone, keys, lightweight Walker coat. My heels echo as I stride down the hallway.

But there’s a glow that catches my attention. I can see it through the glass panes of the conference room, on the other side of the building. Chris Sharpe’s office light.

Breath caught in my throat, it takes a second to realize my heart is pounding. Why am I so nervous?

Because you’re alone in the building with the man who put your brother in prison, the voice in my head warns. But it’s weak. That isn’t really the reason.

Like a moth to a flame, I walk the hall around the edge of the conference room and pause. What am I doing? I should just go home.

The light turns off and sends a little jolt of reality through me.

Before I can turn around, he prowls from his office—looking every inch an imposing beast.

I want to hate everything about him. Instead, my eyes drag slowly down his body, taking in Chris Sharpe—a legend right in front of me.

And I get to see him undone.

His dark hair is ruffled, untamed, as if he’s been running a hand through it. He looks tired and serious. The buttons of his shirt are undone, farther down than is really acceptable, and my gaze drops to the exposed skin and sprinkle of chest hair.

Blood races through my veins as we stare at each other.

“You’re here late.” His voice is gruff, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while. He doesn’t blink as he walks toward me—although it’s more like a stalk.

“I was waiting on some paperwork,” I murmur in response, taking an automatic step back.

Chris looks down at the tote handles I’m clutching, the jacket draped over my arm.

“That’s not going to be enough to keep you warm.”

The statement comes out as a purr, and it sends a shiver down my spine. What would you do to keep me warm? It’s a thought that sends a shot of betrayal through me, but I’m intrigued.

“Let me drive you home.”

The thought of being even closer to Chris, in his car, an enclosed area where we’d truly be alone…

“No, thank you.”

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