Page 9 of My Forbidden Boss

“You’ll be the belle of the ball my dear. Now if you change back, I’ll pack it up for you,” she says.

I make short work of changing again and hand her the dress. She folds it and puts it in a plastic bag. No tissue paper and special boxes for thrift store purchases, but I don’t care. I’ll donate the dress right back again after tonight because there’s no way I’m wearing something like this a second time.

By the time I get to my apartment and climb the stairs I’m a drowned rat. There’s no time to wash off the strain of the day, but the rain did a good enough job. I’m surprised the door is locked and my stuff is here, but I don’t dwell on wonders. I do my hair and use the makeup I have before donning the Liz-Hurley-Bedazzled dress feeling anything but sexy-sinner, slip on the shoes and the jewelry and feel like a second-hand fraud.

I race back downstairs, forgetting all about the Ramen in the pantry. It’s been a full day since I’ve eaten, but my stomach is nothing more than a cement mixer as I hail a cab and hand over the voucher David — Mr Chandler — gave me. My feet would not make the distance to the Manhattan Center.

I’m dazed as the cab whizzes me through a world I’d never known. The people. The colors. The hectic non-stop life. Before I know it, we draw up to the building that doesn’t bother to hide??

I step outside and the cold bites. I should have asked the thrift-shop lady for a coat but I’d forgotten because my nervousness had swept my mind clean in the shop. I was through the door, head down, in a matter of steps because eyes were on me and why wouldn’t they because I’m a woman in a tight red dress. I might as well have worn a neon sign with fingers flashing towards me.

Fraud. Here on a con. Run for the hills because she’s desperate.

I spot the sign ‘Innovation and Excellence Award Dinner’ and head towards two men in black suits who stop me in my tracks. Lilac and bright pink lights flash from a ceiling at least three stories high on tables set to impress in the ballroom beyond. Tables topped with crystal vases holding large flowers on long stems, and a band sets the mood on a stage framed with curtains and expensive equipment. The bass moves through me as people in evening dresses and suits mingle like they belong to a world I should not be privy to.

“May I see your invitation, Miss?” A dark-skinned security guard watches me with a steady gaze.

I gawk at him because David didn’t give me an invitation and there’s nothing in my purse except false hope and a worn Chapstick.

“Miss?” the guard prompts while the other speaks into a microphone attached to his lapel. “I’ll need to see your pass otherwise you’ll have to leave. This is an official event. Invitation only.”

My knees go weak. I have no invitation and I only had one cab pass. If I have to leave, I’ll be forced to trek across New York in heels and blisters because there’s no way I can afford the ride back to my shit hole and I need to be in there. Need to keep this job and do my best for my mother because if I don’t, we’re both going to be homeless.

The crowd parts as David strides towards me. He’s Moses and they’re the Red Sea. Eyes swing to him as he moves all lethal grace, divine male muscle in the body of a god but he doesn’t notice. Not one glance, one twitter, one quick shuffle to the left. No, because his dark eyes are locked on me.

A dark angel in a tux.

Flame to my tinder.

Then David stands before me and takes my elbow and I willingly give him my arm as though there was never an option I’d refuse. His skin sears mine, branding me with his touch. A touch I want all over my body. He doesn’t spare the security guards a glance as he says, “Miss Rayner is with me.”

His voice moves through me with a bass deeper than the band and hooks into my stomach. I’m reeled in, fish on a line. Sights and sounds dull, muffled as though underwater and my lungs stall.

In that moment I know it’s true.

That the strands of my life have begun to twine with his. The lies I’m forced to tell will be my undoing and my downfall. Once I accept his help and step into that room, I’m skating down a one-way street lined with black ice and there is no going back.

And apparently I have the sharpest blades on my feet.

Chapter 4

David

It takes me a few breaths to get myself under control seeing Adeline get bailed up by the security staff and mentally I kick myself. I usually walk into these events with no problem. Security ushers me though without a hitch, and there’s no problem. I’ve been in the business for that long, everyone knows my face, but this gala is off limits to most. I should have remembered to give Adeline a pass, but Andrea always arranges these things for me.

Not that Adeline looks like anyone off the street.

All the air sucked out of the room when she stepped up to the doors.

That dress.

Those legs.

Those eyes.

Those lips.

I want to knock the front teeth out of every asshole gawking at her, go all neanderthal ape, fist my chest and yell at them she’s mine.

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