Page 57 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

I watched the play of the lights over her hair, her skin, her shoulders. “You think you’ll ever have what they have?”

Her eyes were dark and liquid. She glanced at the happy couple as Raphael continued his speech, then looked at me again. “I think it’s rare to find someone who’s your perfect match,” she admitted, “but I’m holding out hope. You?”

I huffed. “I don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”

“Maybe the best thing to do is take scraps of happiness wherever you can find them.”

Holding Nikki’s gaze, I wondered if I was reading things there that didn’t exist. There was a scrap of happiness here between us. Something alive and hot and real, if only we let ourselves indulge.

If we forgot that she worked for me. If we pretended I didn’t hold all the advantages. If we promised each other it was temporary.

Applause jarred me out of my thoughts, and I joined in. A little while later, while waiters drifted through the small crowd with drinks and canapés, Raphael approached. He held his arms out to Nikki and air-kissed both her cheeks, then introduced us to his husband.

“Congratulations,” she told them, smiling. “Your speech was beautiful. I can see the love you have for each other so clearly, and it’s just wonderful.”

“Now how did a sweet woman like you end up shackled to Mr. Dry and Dusty, over here.” Raphael nodded to me.

Nikki gave him a grin. “I can’t tell you that. I signed an NDA.”

The two of them cackled, clearly having no idea she was telling the honest truth. I slipped my hand down Nikki’s back and pinched her side. She responded by bumping me with her hip and giving me that sexy side-eye I loved so much.

“Rome was telling me about his ideas for your launch campaign,” Nikki said. “Have you seen any of the updated concepts?”

Garcia let out a dramatic sigh and gave me a disappointed look. “I just—I just can’t. It needs to be the real thing, but the glass manufacturers can’t get us a new four-hundred-gallon bottle for another three months. We’ll have to delay.”

Nikki nodded sympathetically. “I see.”

“It has to be perfect.”

“I understand,” she responded, and there was a stiffness in her shoulders. I wondered if she was blaming herself for what happened.

“Especially now,” Garcia added.

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, after the story about the accident leaked. Everyone knows that our campaign is delayed because of it. I couldn’t possibly put something out that isn’t absolutely real.”

Which meant he was determined to reject anything that used CGI—and our contingency plans were out the window. I tried to rein in my frustration while my mind spun. I needed to salvage this. If we failed with Garcia, it would be a black mark against us when it came to closing the Monk deal.

“What if you leaned into it?” Nikki said.

Raphael frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“Take the campaign in a new direction. Less ethereal angels wearing very little clothes while they, uh, stroke the perfume bottles, and more…strength.”

Garcia glanced at his husband, then at me, and finally frowned at Nikki. “I’m not sure I follow.”

I cleared my throat, intending to save this ship before it went down, when Nikki said, “I was there when it happened. The glass smashing, the perfume sloshing, the screams—it was very dramatic. Very captivating.”

The other man tilted his head. “Go on.”

“Line those bottles up and smash them with a baseball bat,” Nikki said, smiling fiercely. “The perfume is supposed to represent divine feminine energy, correct?”

Garcia nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, part of being a woman is unshakeable strength. Have the models wear fabulous clothes while they show exactly how powerful they are.”

I held my breath. It was the opposite of what we’d pitched, but I could tell Garcia was considering it. He stared at her for a beat, then let out a bark of laughter. He pointed at Nikki and said, “You are a genius. Genius!” He pointed at me. “Can you get it done in our original timeline?”

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