Page 1 of Billionaire Boss's One Night Stand

1

LOREN

One more load and that’ll be it.

Packing a car for a road trip was a mindless, nervous task, but this time, excitement filled me. The more I moved my things into my secondhand SUV, the giddier I felt. As I watched the stacked piles of boxes and bags disappear from my room, a sense of farewell crept in.

And it was a good sensation. I’d lived in the small, closed-minded town of Hamming all my life. Twenty-five years were enough to give to this little spot of Pennsylvania. My future was waiting somewhere else.

“I don’t understand why you’re taking so much,” my older sister, Becca, said. She leaned her tall, lithe frame against the wall near my door. She studied her cuticles, lazy and snobbish as she assumed the privilege of offering commentary. Hearing Becca’s opinions was one of the first things I would definitely not miss.

“Because I’m moving there for good.”

“Seriously, though?” She lifted her gaze as I restacked a couple of lightweight totes to carry them two at a time. Sneering at me with that prissy, judgmental smirk she’d perfected all her life, she watched me struggle to balance the load. Because, ofcourse, she wouldn’t lift a finger to help me. Because, of course, she wouldn’t give a shit about how easy or difficult something was in my life.

“Yes, seriously,” I told her, annoyed that our parents had given me this same degree of doubt last night over dinner. Mom, Dad, and especially Becca. They all guessed I’d fail and slink back home sooner than later. “I’m moving to New York.” Saying it aloud gave me a boost of confidence. “I start my new job Monday.” And I couldn’t wait.

Becca rolled her eyes, looking more like a teenage drama queen than a newly married twenty-seven-year-old. “You won’t stay. Like, you’re not tough enough to last in a big city.”

Oh, just shut up already.I brushed past her, carrying the two plastic boxes toward the door. “Whatever you say, Becca.”

“You think you’re cut out for New York?” She scoffed, trailing after me. Her mission in life was to tease, taunt, and belittle me. When I was eight, I learned the important lesson of blowing off her criticism. The less attention I gave her and the quicker I showed her how I could roll with the punches, the harder she’d try to get to me.

Exhibit A of why I should’ve made this move years ago…I sighed, hearing her footsteps behind me as I hurried to the car.

“You’re not used to living in a big city.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t adjust to it.”

Another derisive huff came as I left the house. “You have, like, no street smarts.”

“Then I guess I’ll learn as I go.”

She laughed, leaning against my car and crossing her arms. “You’re too sheltered to even know how to get around in a city.”

“I bet my phone will help me.”

“And you’ll look like such a dumbass, walking around like a tourist and not fitting in.” She tugged on my sleeve after I set the totes in the backseat. I was taking just about all I had, butthat wasn’t much. When it came to furniture and belongings, Becca always got the good stuff. When we moved during high school, forced to downsize when Dad lost his job,Iwas the one stuck in the tiniest bedroom and expected to give up half my things to make it fit. Then when she moved into her house with her husband, they asked me to give up all the furniture I’d been buying and saving for when I wanted to move out. Because “Becca needs it more than you do.”

“You think you’re going to fit in with drab clothes like this at the big office?” She smiled, loving the ability to torment me.

“I’m not wearing these kinds of clothes to the office,” I replied dryly, counting down the minutes until I could hit the road.

“You don’t have any fashion sense to know how to dress for an office.”

I tilted my head to the side and put my hands on my hips. “And you do?”

She lost her sassy expression, but I wasn’t done. If she wanted to act like this, I’d hit where it hurt. “You know how to dress foranyjob?” I snapped my fingers, mocking surprise. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t. Because you’ve neverhada job. Always too lazy.”

“I’m not lazy. I was busy getting married.”

“Oh, sure. And I wonder how long Dan’s going to enjoy being your sugar daddy.” I rolled my eyes. “Get off my back. I’ll figure out how to makemylife a success.”

“Your life is going nowhere. You’ll never make anything out of yourself. Here or in the city.”

“Oh, and settling for a mediocre man and thinking you’re suddenly someone special just because you got married is how you’re making something out of your life?”

She glowered at me. “Dan is not mediocre.”

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