Page 13 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

There was a beat of silence before Arthur said, “We’re talking eight figures. And for someone like Ms. Jordan, who also has a case for retaliation since she was let go as a result of a workplace accident… Well, that alone could be disastrous. Even if she settled, if the press got even a whiff of this… It’s not a good look, gentlemen. Not a good look at all.”

Exhaling, I leaned my palms on my desk. Blood rushed in my ears. I could feel my pulse in my fingertips as I tried to pull myself back together.

I could see it: the end. The end of everything I’d built. The one thing I was proud of, gone. Destroyed by a vengeful woman in red lipstick.

Anger pulsed through me. Anger and something deeper, an itch I couldn’t scratch. She thought she could threatenme? She thought she could turn around and throw the book at my face because she felt like she’d been slighted?

She didn’t have the first idea what hardship was.

I held myself apart from people because this was how I thrived, and I refused to be brought low by the likes of her. Lifting my head, I met Cole’s gaze. “Fix this,” I told him. “Immediately.”

He nodded, then ducked out of my office. Arthur, grim-faced, waited for me to speak.

It took me another two breaths to get my temper under control to the point that I could say her name. Finally, I gritted out, “Ms. Jordan is coming in on Monday. I want you to sit in on the meeting.”

“What’s your game plan?” Arthur asked, braiding his fingers over the paunch of his stomach as he leaned back. He frowned his bushy brows, considering me. “If you say she’s ready to play hardball, how much are you willing to pay to make this go away?”

I pulled my chair closer and sat down, then woke my computer up with a press of the space bar. Calm descended over me like a weighted blanket. I hadn’t built this business without knowing how to react quickly to avert disaster.

Ever since I’d been a small child, I’d had to rely on no one but myself. I’d been born to stand on my own. This was where I thrived.

It was why I didn’t have a wife at my side the way Wilbur Monk wanted. It’s why relationships never lasted. It’s why I was able to take the privileges Ihadbeen afforded in the form of seed money from my wealthy family and turn it into something much, much bigger.

Nikita Jordan was an existential threat to me, and I had to face that head-on.

This was exactly the type of situation I was made to manage. No one could break me. No one could drag me down. Weakness had been wrung out of me by the time I was twelve years old, and that wasn’t going to change now.

Jordan might have thought she was clever, but I knew the truth: She was a grifter. She’d seen an opportunity, and she was going to squeeze me for everything I had.

Ha. She’d try.

But the woman didn’t know what happened to people who threatened me. I hadn’t gotten to where I was by rolling over at the first sign of a fight. If she wanted to get a dime out of me, she’d have to earn it. And I wouldn’t make it easy on her.

Last night, I’d seen something. She’d been crying when I arrived at the hospital. I watched her pull herself together and hide that vulnerability behind the lash of that sharp tongue of hers.

But it was too late. I knew just how close to the edge she really was.

The woman was desperate.

She was also beautiful, clever, and not afraid to speak her mind. I could use that.

If I played my cards right, I might just be able to wriggle my way out of this mess with no lawsuits at all—and snare Wilbur Monk in the process.

“I’m not going to offer her a pot of gold,” I told Arthur. “I’m going to do exactly what we’re doing with the other hundred-odd employees who were hired as independent contractors.”

He watched me, silent. It was my turn to indulge in a dramatic pause.

I gave him a shark’s smile. “I’m going to offer her a job.”

FIVE

NIKKI

My friend Penny Littletonlived in a cool refurbished factory in Soho. Her husband, Marcus, had been living there when he hired Penny as his dog walker. Seeing my bright, smiley friend end up with such a dour man had been a surprise, but I’d seen glimmers of Marcus’s personality since then.

Like how whenever he liked one of Penny’s outfits, he’d ask her if it was from the Littleton Collection, which I learned was an inside joke between them from Penny blurting out that particular lie to a snooty sales associate at a designer department store.

She’d upcycled the dress herself, using her amazing sewing skills.

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