Page 45 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

“Uh-huh,” she said, fingers tracing the perfect stitching on her leather seat. “Nice wheels.”

I grinned and put the car in gear. It handled like a dream as we exited the underground parking garage and headed out into the streets. Nikki settled into her seat beside me, her gaze avid as she glanced around the car and finally over at me. “This really isn’t necessary, Blakely.”

“Judging by that garbage you were carrying around in your purse, it’s absolutely necessary,” I said, taking the next left.

I didn’t turn to look at her, but I sensed Nikki’s smile. Having her this close to me was the sweetest form of torture. I felt like I had in the helicopter; I wanted to give her a taste of my world. Show her things she couldn’t have dreamed of before. Watch her reaction and relive all these experiences through her.

She made life sweeter. Even driving this car was more fun, and I enjoyed it on a good day.

Nikki reached for the volume knob on the center console, and I arched a brow. “What are you doing?”

“I’m turning the stereo on,” she said, as if I were dense.

“You don’t touch the stereo when someone else is driving.”

Her laugh informed me just how intimidated she was by my rules. A song from two decades ago came on, and Nikki grinned. “I love this song.”

“You’ve got some nerve, putting that on in my car,” I grumbled, but I didn’t change the music. I liked seeing that smile on Nikki’s face.

“Have you any idea how uptight you are? It’s staggering, actually.”

“Hiring you was a mistake,” I said darkly.

Her laugh was bright as a midsummer’s day. “Probably, yeah.”

We drove a while longer, and some of the tension in my shoulders relaxed. I hadn’t even known I was tense. But having her here beside me, bobbing her head to the music, filling my favorite car with her sweet perfume, made everything just a little bit better.

Besides, she was my companion, wasn’t she? Coming along with me wherever I chose was the entirety of her job description. Even if I’d originally conceived the plus-one duties around galas and networking events, and not impromptu trips to my favorite bakery.

When we turned down a darkened alley, Nikki shifted in her seat. I navigated around a dumpster and pulled to a stop outside a nondescript steel door, painted rust-red.

“Uh, Rome…?”

“Scared, princess?” I gave her a wolf’s smile.

She rolled her eyes, glancing over when the red door swung open. A gigantic man blotted out the light that spilled through the opening, his massive shoulders silhouetted by the buttery yellow glow beyond. He kicked something with his foot to keep the door propped open, then shifted into the light so I caught sight of his scowl.

He trundled up the two steps that brought him to street level and walked around to my side of the car. In his hands, he clasped a white bakery box.

I rolled down the window. “Evening, Sal.”

“Next time you want something, give me more than twenty minutes’ notice, all right?” He thrust the box through the window, barely giving me enough time to grab it before he let go and walked back to the bakery door.

“Cheerful sort of guy,” Nikki noted.

I laughed, handing her the box. “Hold these,” I said as I rolled up my window. When she had the box in her lap, I drove out of the alleyway and onto the street. I pulled into the first open spot where I could park on the street and flicked the overhead lights on.

Nikki’s face was aglow with a mischievous grin. “This is unexpected, Blakely. I haven’t seen this side of you.”

“What side is that?”

“The side that has a hook-up for emergency cookies, and that pulls onto the side of the road to eat them.”

“Open the box, Jordan.”

She laughed, and the noise made my own lips twitch. Turning the box toward me, she presented me with its contents. Sal had come through with a dozen warm, gooey, perfectly baked cookies the size of side plates. I took one and then nodded for Nikki to do the same. She set the box down on her lap and studied the selection, choosing a cookie near the edge of the pile with lots of chocolate studded through it.

Holding it in her hands, with her shiny red nail polish providing a strong contrast to the brown-and-beige cookie, she inspected the treat like the fate of the world depended on her verdict. One dark brow arched, and Nikki shifted her gaze to me. “Not bad,” she conceded.

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