Page 48 of My Bossy Billionaire Attorney

“I will. Thank you for believing me.” I say plainly.

She smiles. “You’re a good person. It’s easy to see that someone has it out for you.”

The right intention, the wrong words.

I push it out of my mind, though, as I head out towards Michael’s office. On the way there, my heart picks up speed, pounding and thudding and ramming into my ears.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Brenda gives me a sympathy nod that lets me know she’s heard the news too and then gestures for me to go in. I knock once before entering.

Michael is seated at the edge of his desk, arms folded with a scowl on his face. His rolled-up sleeves, slightly rumpled shirt, and the leg crossed over the other should look casual,but it just screamssexto me.

Sex and Michael Stone.

I mean, it’s only natural since we had sex last night and slept in the same hotel room. We might have agreed that it won’t happen again, but you don’t just go from kissing another person passionately to acting like everything is peachy.

Especially when the other person is Michael Stone.

“You said you—”

He lifts a finger, stopping me, then points to the earpiece in his ear.

“Oh,” I mouth. “You’re on a call. I’ll just wait.”

I turn, heading for the couch facing a longer table to the left when he whistles. I turn around, and he points to the chair beside him.

“You,” I touch my chest, “want me to sit there?”

He nods.

“Oh…okay.”

Hesitatingly, I walk to the chair. He pulls it back just an inch, enough for me to sit down and push it in. I exhale slowly as catchthe scent of him. His presence, close enough that I can touch him, swallows me whole.

It feels overwhelming but in a good way.

“I told you,” he says, “find it. I don’t care how but you need to get it done. Do your job, Gerald.”

“Or I’ll find someone who will. Understand?”

The anger in his voice doesn’t show on his face, and when he sees me looking at him, the corner of his lips tilt slightly.

“Do it,” he continues, and I look away. “Remember, you owe me.”

Then he removes the earpiece and tosses it on the table with a soft thud.

“Savannah,” he gives me his full attention, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah. I have something for you.”

I look at the hand on my shoulder, knowing that he did it out of habit.

“Something good?” I say hopeful.

He shrugs, standing up. “It depends. How good do you want the news to be? Do you want—” he shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to change the news. Eric Windsor was last seen in a bar two states from here three days ago.”

I lean forward so fast my chest almost hits the edge of the desk. Fortunately, my hands go before, bracing for impact. I wince at slight pain before shoving it away.

“Tell me. Where is he now?” I ask excitedly.

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