Page 106 of By His Rule

His eyes narrow.

“I’m not sure a notebook with ‘things I don’t give a fuck about’ written across the front is entirely appropriate.”

“Do you not? Well, that’s a shame,” I mutter, placing my notebook back down and flipping it open. “Now, please continue. You wanted to discuss your schedule.”

I grab my pen, making sure the writing down the barrel is facing him too.

It says, “This meeting is shit,” and I know he’s really going to appreciate it.

Sucking in a deep, steeling breath, he opens up his calendar and begins talking me through it.

Hours pass as he makes plans and I scribble notes to make sure I don’t forget any of it.

I have a whole list of meetings, both in person and virtual, that I need to organize along with a whole host of things.

As we close in on lunch, my stomach begins to growl—and none too quietly, either.

One particular growl is so loud it makes Kian look away from his computer screen with a scowl on his face.

Despite wanting to apologize, my lips remain closed.

He doesn’t deserve an apology when he’s the one stopping me from eating.

“I have a gala on tomorrow night,” he explains. “My suit will be delivered here this afternoon. If you could get it to Jamie when it does, I’d appreciate it.”

“Would you rather me pick it up from the dry cleaners and then deliver it home for you? Perhaps I could help dress you in it as well?” The second I say those last few words, I regret them. The man from Sunday night would definitely take me up on the offer, and that is not the version of Kian Callahan I am facing right now.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says tersely.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. I might be annoyed that I’ve got to intercept his dry cleaning, but it’s nowhere near as bad as finding myself in the middle of his fancy penthouse. I’m already more involved in his life than I want to be.

“That leads us to travel plans. Next week, I’d like to?—”

A knock on the door cuts his words off.

He looks at me as if I know who it is. But when I say nothing, he finally concedes.

“Come in,” he commands.

Honestly, I’m expecting it to be Kingston, or maybe even Micheal, so when the door opens to reveal what is probably the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, I can’t help but give her a double take.

As shockingly beautiful as she is, and as well as her obviously designer clothes fit her, it’s the picnic basket hanging from her fingers that really catches my attention.

“We’re in a meeting, Sasha,” Kian says sharply.

“I can see that, sweetie. But it’s lunchtime and?—”

Pushing to my feet, I close my notebook, more than grateful for the interruption and the reason to escape.

The woman—Sasha—steps farther into the room as I retreat toward the door.

Almost instantly, I notice just how tall she is.

Christ.

Any self-confidence I might possess withers and dies, seeping from my feet and into the floor as I step up to her.

What the hell was Kian thinking Sunday night when he has this woman at his beck and call? And she comes with food. I bet there is caviar and champagne in that basket.

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