Page 10 of My Bossy Billionaire Attorney

In his words, if I wasn’t going to get accepted into the best law schools in the country, then I might as well not go. When I decided not to apply and became a paralegal instead, he said he’d pegged me from the start.

Incapable of reaching great heights.

I turn away from the window when I hear footsteps. Panic ensues when the footsteps draw closer, and I look around frantically for a place to hide.

The only place that I find is under Michael’s large desk. Without thinking twice, I dive under it, giving me seconds to spare before the door opens.

Chapter 4

Michael

Ipause as I get to the door.

“Is there something wrong?” Peter asks.

“I’m not sure.”

“Brenda stepped out to grab lunch if you were wondering,” he says.

“Oh yeah, I think she did tell me that,” I scratch my head.

Peter pats my back. “You have a lot on your mind. That’s why I’m here. I got your back.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

He pushes the door open, and I walk in. But as I do, the feeling that something is off doesn’t leave me. I take a quick look around the office, but nothing seems out of place, so I let it go.

I head over to my chair as Peter takes the one in front of my desk.

“Congratulations on your promotion,” I say. “You worked hard for it.”

“I don’t know,” he replies. “I joined the firm less than a year ago.”

“And you’ve done tremendous work for us since then. You’ve also worked for another firm, and I’m sure if you’d stayed there they would have made you a partner.”

He shakes his head.

“I couldn’t have stayed there. My father’s friend owns that firm. It would have been interpreted as him being biased. He’s done enough for me already and I didn’t want anyone thinking that he was pulling strings for me. I want it known that I earned it.”

“Well,” I spread out my arms. “No one is going to think that way here. You’ve won all the cases that have come across your desk and have gotten lots of new clients.”

“They were all settled out of court.”

I frown. “A win is a win.”

I don’t understand why Peter is bent on downplaying his accomplishments when his billings are outstanding. And he’s not usually this…humble.

“Is anything going on with you?” I ask. “And I’m not asking as your boss. I’m asking as your friend.”

He sighs.

“I don’t know. My stepsister started working here a couple of weeks ago.”

My eyes widen. “Your sister? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because she would rather no one know that we’re related. Let’s just say that we didn’t get along growing up,” he explains.

Being an only child, I can’t say I relate. But if Peter’s stepsister works for me, then I want to know who she is.

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