Page 17 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

“It’s a good thing you’ve finally found one.” She shrugs. “Even though I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong one.”

“Let’s give it time, okay.”

“Fine. One more pose?”

“Ugh.” I drop my shoulders forward and groan. “That’s enough for one day.”

She snaps another shot with a laugh.

“I hope it’s cute,” I laugh, bumping her shoulder.

“Put your game face on today.”

I put my arms on her shoulders and then pull her into a hug. “I know you’re only looking out for me, but I’ll be fine.”

“Great, now I’m late, too.”

We rush outside the apartment building, ready to start our days.

Amber’s words echo in my head. What if I do have the wrong job? Daniel hasn’t been particularly warm.

The image of him at his house lingers in my mind as I book an Uber. I’m almost positive I caught a smile on his face while I spoke with his daughter yesterday. She’s easy and fun to talk to—the opposite of Daniel.

I arrive at the office quickly. As I straighten my dress and adjust the red scarf at the elevator bank inside the building, Daniel catches the corner of my eye. He strides confidently toward me, and I can’t help but notice how his suit hugs his body in all the right places.

He’s deep in conversation with someone on his phone, a frown etched on his face. Shaking my head to clear the unwelcome thoughts, I nod at him as he approaches.

I hope he doesn’t complain about my red scarf in this dreary sea of black, white, and gray. I need this little piece of my personal expression if I’m going to survive today with this dull headache.

6

Daniel

“Good morning,” Chloe says as we step inside the elevator.

“You’re late,” I say as I scroll through messages on my phone.

“I know today’s a big day. I’m sorry for being late.” Her voice sounds apologetic. “The truth is—”

My head jerks up to meet her gaze. What’s the truth? Traffic? A late Uber? Your dog at the presentation? Which is it?

My eyes catch her outfit. A red scarf, huh? There must be something about her need for colors, and I can’t deny it—it makes her face look absolutely adorable. The anger I harbored from her not showing up on time fizzes away like soda bubbles. I set my jaw, trying to mask my softened expression, and wait to hear her ‘truth.’

“Go on.”

We step out of the elevators and walk toward our offices.

“I was working on the proposal you asked for, which took a lot longer than I thought. I stayed up late and accidentally slept through my alarm.”

I raise a brow. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard that one.”

“Well… it’s…I…,” she stammers, her face flushing with embarrassment.

Laughter ripples in my stomach, but I shut it off with a hard stare. I really shouldn’t take this much pleasure in making others squirm. Only, her eyes are just as wary as Michelle’s when she’s been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing, trying her best to remain composed. The struggle to maintain her dignity is almost endearing. I can see the earnest effort in her face, the flicker of anxiety in her eyes as she waits for my judgment.

“Ms. Summers,” I address through clenched teeth. Her expression falters, then she quickly comes to. “Does this place look like a circus to you?”

Looking confused, she replies, “No.”

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