Page 37 of Broken Boss

Kieran.

Saskia takes a step into the street, a break in the traffic, and I reach out and grip her arm tightly.

“Wait!”

She stumbles, surprised, turning back clumsily.

“Don’t. Get back in the building.”

Her face goes blank with fear as she follows me, the two of us slipping back into the foyer.

“What’s wrong?” She’s looking out through the tinted glass, trying to figure out what spooked me. But even if she sets eyes on Kieran, it won’t be obvious.

He looked…good. The thought echoes in my mind even as I try to find a security guard nearby. One is leaning up against the counter, chatting with a receptionist, and I make a beeline for him.

“Excuse me!”

Kieran.

All over again, I get that tight feeling around my throat, like someone squeezing. His hair is longer, not bleached anymore. He’s filled out more. He still has that hollowed-out look to him, though. Years of drug use took his molars and a few other teeth.

“Excuse me, there’s someone…out front…” I trail off, not sure how to explain the situation. “Can you please get ahold of Mr. Sharpe and ask him to come down to the foyer?” I ask the receptionist, turning my attention away from the guard for a second.

He takes my arm, already scanning the large room for threats. “Miss, was someone bothering you? Did they follow you in here?”

“No. It’s not—he didn’t do anything, he just…”

How do I explain this?

He’s just a man who used to abuse me. A man who had complete control over me until?—

Until Stephen going to jail gave me the strength to break away.

Until my father’s funeral drained all of my emotional energy.

The security guard relaxes, but adrenaline is still buzzing through my system. What am I going to do if Kieran comes in here?

Saskia has made her way over to the elevators and is watching me warily. I don’t even want to think about what she’ll tell the rest of the team.

The receptionist hangs up the phone and eyes me. She clearly thinks I’m crazy, too, probably because I’m trying not to pant with anxiety. I can’t take my eyes off the front doors, convinced that any moment he’ll walk through.

As the minutes tick by, I try to regulate my breathing. Just as I’m telling myself that I should go back up to my office and get on with the day, stop being so paranoid, the elevator doors open and Chris strides out.

His eyes are dark and hard. They scan the room, land on me, and he’s at my side immediately. He puts out an arm but doesn’t touch me. The security guard and receptionist both catch the move, though, and look interested.

“Autumn. What’s wrong?”

I pull Chris to the side, not wanting to make more of a scene. Once I tell him, he’ll laugh it off. He’ll reassure me that it’s no big deal, that I probably just mistook someone for my ex.

“It’s Kieran. He was outside, across the street. Watching the building.”

Now he does touch me. His arm goes to my waist and he beckons the security guard over. All of a sudden, the tall, broad man is obedient, unquestioning.

“There’s a man outside,” Chris explains quickly in a low voice. “I mentioned to your manager that we may have a problem with him. He’s here?—”

I zone out as the two go back and forth. The security guard asks questions and Chris answers. His tone is short, direct, and commanding. I’m surprised the discussion is even lasting this long.

“Sorry, sir.” Those are the words I hear when my pulse stops rushing through my ears. “There’s not much we can do unless he’s on our property.” The security guard looks uneasy, as if he wants to say, And you should know that—being a criminal defense lawyer and all.

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