Page 73 of By His Rule

I also know that she’s single, unlike the night of the wedding. The jerk who didn’t attend with her proved his true colors the other week when it became apparent that he was living a double life and had a fiancée.

So, if she does have plans tonight, then?—

“Nothing I can’t cancel,” she says through gritted teeth. Irritation comes off her in waves, but I don’t let it affect me.

“Fantastic,” I say, stepping up behind her, letting the sweet scent of her perfume flood my senses. “Shall we get started?”

“The sooner we start, the sooner we can leave.”

“Hmm, my thoughts exactly,” I lie.

“This is a fucking disaster,” Lorelei announces from where she’s sitting on the floor at my coffee table, surrounded by the chain’s previous accounts.

We have the past five years to go through. I might only have scratched the surface of them, but I already know that it’s not pretty reading.

“Did they really think they could turn this around?” she asks.

“I guess so. I don’t think anyone sets out to go under.”

She stills and looks up, glaring at me.

“What? You asked.”

“It was rhetorical,” she hisses before sitting back in her haunches and grabbing her cell.

A deep frown mars her forehead before she begins tapping the screen frantically.

“Everything okay?” I ask, still curious as fuck about what her canceled evening plans entailed.

“Great,” she lies before letting out a heavy breath.

“Your date not impressed that you had to cancel?” I hedge.

“I didn’t have a date. I’m not dating right now.” Her cell lights up again, distracting her. “Not that it’s any of your business,” she adds absently as she starts typing again.

“Just trying to get to know you better.”

“Okay, so for reference, only one of us has a different member of the opposite sex warming their bed every night of the week.”

My brows lift at the bitterness that accompanies that statement.

“I don’t sleep with a different woman every night,” I say before thinking better of getting into this with her.

“Okay, cool. Whatever you say.”

This time when she looks at her cell, she sees something she likes and a wide, genuine smile appears on her face.

My breath catches at the sight of it.

“For someone who isn’t dating, you sure look happy about those messages you’re getting.”

She pauses typing and lowers her cell. “I’m sorry, you must not have heard me when I said it was none of your business.” Holding my eyes firm, she climbs to her feet and straightens her skirt. “I don’t need to be here right now. My working hours ended hours ago. Excuse me,” she says before marching across the room and slipping out of the door.

Sitting back, I can’t fight the grin that spreads across my face.

“Take your time,” I mutter, knowing that she’ll be back. Her shoes are on the floor next to my desk, after all.

18

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