Page 58 of Broken Boss

But here we are.

Frank whines at the end of the bed, putting his big head on my leg and staring up at me with those soulful eyes.

I don’t know what to tell you, I think desperately. I don’t know where we go from here.

For the past two days, my options have been ricocheting around in my brain. Nothing feels quite right—do I leave Chris’s house? Do I leave my job? Do I go back to the apartment and put Orla in danger if Kieran is still looking for me?

I think of all the cases I’d leave unfinished. All the questions my coworkers would have. And I think of Chris, alone again in this house, in the unsettling quiet.

There’s a knock on the door and I jump, yanking the covers up higher. “Yeah?”

Chris pushes the door open gently.

“Hey. Are you busy?”

It’s still stiff and awkward between us. Everything feels unfinished, but I can’t just walk away. It’s like I’m tied to him somehow.

“No.” Please, please don’t ask to talk about this more—please don’t question me. “I’m just…relaxing.”

Funny. I’m definitely doing the exact opposite.

As if he can read my mind, he raises a brow.

“I want to take you out to dinner.”

Frank raises his head at the same time I sit up. “What?”

Chris moves farther into the doorway, leaning on it with that slightly cocky smile. Just a hint of it, but it makes my heart flutter.

Maybe this can be salvaged.

Should it be salvaged?

I push the thought away, clutching the comforter.

“I’m really fine with takeout, Chris, or whatever’s in the fridge. I’ll find something?—”

“No. I want to take you out as an apology. Please.” His eyes shift from me to the closet, where most of my things are unpacked. “Don’t forget, I’ve seen your wardrobe. I know you have at least one or two things you could wear out to a fancy restaurant.”

I duck my chin to hide a smile. When was the last time I went out on the town? Maybe a month or two ago when Orla and I dipped into a dive bar to play a game of pool.

He’s right. I have one or two dresses I’ve been dying to wear, and with my work life, and lack of a love life, I haven’t had the chance.

Might not have the opportunity again anytime soon.

“Alright,” I relent, pulling my legs up and biting my lip. Frank thumps his tail. “Yeah. Give me half an hour to get ready?”

Chris whistles low in amusement. “Wow, that’s it? Works for me. I’ll take Frank out.”

My pup jumps from the bed at the sound of his name, and Chris and I share shy smiles.

Half an hour later, on the dot—I hate to be late—I meet Chris at the front door.

He’s all decked out in a perfectly tailored suit, hair slicked back, looking every inch the billionaire lawyer. My belly stirs with desire as I take him in, a blush warming my cheeks.

“You look amazing,” he murmurs, holding out a hand.

I take it, confused, and he turns me into a little twirl, earning a laugh.

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