Page 25 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

My intestines twist, and the chocolate croissants crawl up my throat.

“Can you at least be a little decent?”

“I am.” He munches the bagel and reaches for the coffee.

No, no, no.

“Were you the one even chatting with me?”

“My teenage boy. He’s good with this stuff.”

I stand from my seat. I’ve had enough. “I can’t do this,” I say.

His eyes bulge. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Outta here.”

“Are we hooking up at your place?”

“Not in a million years,” I scoff. “We’re not having anything!”

“Then refund my hundred dollars.”

“What?”

“My boy said you demanded a hundred dollars before we met.”

“Excuse me?” I raise my voice, and people begin to stare. This is getting embarrassing. I lower my voice quickly. “I didn’t demand anything from you or your boy. Why would I do that?”

He shrugs. “Because you’re an escort, aren’t you?”

My breath is fast and ragged. He deserves a resounding slap. I pick up my purse and turn in my chair to get up when a calloused palm grabs me.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

I wrench my arm from his grip, my heart pounding in my chest. His words sting like a slap across the face. But I refuse to let fear overwhelm me.

“You're out of your mind!” I snap, my voice trembling with anger and indignation. I turn on my heel and bolt towards the exit, my pulse racing with each step.

As I burst out of the coffee shop, the cool air hits me, offering a temporary reprieve to the anger boiling within. I look around wildly, searching for a way to escape. But before I can make a move, I feel his presence behind me.

“You can't just run away,” he growls.

Ignoring him, I dart down the street toward the office, my heart pounding in my ears. My shoes clack against the pavement as I sprint, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

These flats came in handy, I think for the second time today.

But he's hot on my heels, his heavy footsteps echoing ominously behind me. Panic courses through my veins as I realize he’s going to find out where I work.

Just as I reach the next block, I hear a car swerve to a stop beside me, the door opening and slamming shut. I turn towards it, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and hope.

It’s Daniel.

8

Daniel

When I get Chloe's text saying she's going to lunch, I don't think much of it. Sure, I'm annoyed that she's taking a break, but I guess people need to eat, right?

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