Page 30 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

“Doesn’t count. He’s your employee.”

“Arlo Noble.”

I blinked. That was Bonnie’s new boss. Not wanting to go down that route, I blew a raspberry and said, “You think billionaire buddies impress me? My best friend is married to Marcus Walsh.”

He stared into my eyes, and I felt a bit dizzy at the intensity of it. “Bullshit.”

My grin couldn’t be stopped. “How else do you think I got Phil Phillips to come negotiate for me this morning?”

His mouth dropped, then pursed. Victorious, I leaned back and reached for my sparkling water.

That’s when I noticed the curious gazes from the rest of our audience. Mr. and Mrs. Blakely were watching us, looking faintly horrified. Natasha was confused. Will, for some reason, was glaring at me.

I sipped my water and set it back down on its coaster and looked at Will. “You didn’t go to boarding school?”

The other man was still frowning at me, but he nodded. “By the time they had me, Mom and Dad had more time. I wanted to stay at home.”

As any child would,I thought to myself. I wondered if being shipped off to another state was the reason Rome seemed to hold himself apart from everyone. I hadn’t seen him interact with his so-called friends, but every interaction I’d seen people have with him—or the way people had talked about him when I was working in the studio—was vague fear and awe.

“Will got the fun childhood, but at least I got a good education,” Rome said, drawing my gaze.

I nodded, somber. “Don’t forget all the friends you made along the way.”

Rome shot me a glare, to which I replied with an angelic smile.

“I think it’s time for dinner,” Joanne announced loudly, then stood. Her arms were stiff at her sides as she marched across the room to the door. The rest of us followed her lead and headed into the dining room. Rome pulled my chair out to help me sit, then took the spot next to mine.

While the others took their seats, Rome leaned toward me. “Thank you,” he said, so quietly I nearly missed it.

I nudged him with my shoulder, and he nudged me back.

Deep in my heart, a shard of ice melted. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad.

Not wanting to dwell on that thought, I turned to Natasha and asked her a thousand questions about her wedding plans, which she was more than happy to discuss. Dinner was three courses of delicious food, including a melt-in-your-mouth-tender steak and the creamiest mashed potatoes I’d ever tasted. I caved and had a glass of red with dinner, which was divine.

The wine, plus the food, plus the forced company meant that by the time we headed out the back door and rounded the corner that would lead us to the helicopter, I let out a long breath.

“Was it that bad?” Rome asked as the helicopter blades began to whir. He met my gaze and I saw none of the anger and none of the arrogance that had been there before. He looked tired.

“Now the fat paycheck makes sense,” I answered, and he gave me a ghost of a glare. Better than nothing. We took our seats in the helicopter, and I spent the ride looking out the window at the glittering lights spread out like a carpet below us.

ELEVEN

ROME

Three days passedin the normal rhythm, but I was restless. Work was as hectic as usual, but it failed to keep my mind occupied the way it normally did. I had a phone meeting with Wilbur Monk, and he gave me the runaround about signing on with my company. I had a feeling tonight’s charity gala would be a pivotal moment.

Which reminded me?—

I picked up my phone and dialed. It rang three times before a bright, cheerful voice replied, “Hello?”

“Have you found a dress for tonight?”

There was a pause. Then—“Who is this?”

I leaned back in my chair, glancing out the floor-to-ceiling window in my office as a smile tried its hardest to curl my lips. “Don’t play with me, Jordan.”

“Your number is unlisted,” she noted. “You could be one of the many men who call and demand to know what I’m wearing.”

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