Page 35 of Starting Over with Her Billionaire Boss

If he had, things would have been different. He would have made it clear; Daegan Westerhouse was a direct man if nothing else. But she was back to being just his personal assistant—where things should have stayed. He hadn’t asked her to wait, or if she wanted to stay with him instead. He had only told her when she needed to meet him for breakfast.

She finally managed to calm her thoughts down enough to sleep, but her alarm woke her only a few hours later. Eyedrops to clear the redness, a cold compress made of a hotel towel and cold water for the puffiness, minimal makeup would make sure nothing smudged if something managed to upset her later. Checking her outfit twice to make sure none of his marks were showing, she went to meet Daegan downstairs for breakfast.

They sat there making polite small talk with no eye contact. Every time his gaze drifted to her, she felt it like a weight. But whenever she dared glance back, he turned away. Was he avoiding her, or was she imagining that, too?

It was a typical case of ignoring the elephant in the room. Kinsley was content with it for the time being; the last thing she wanted was to feel emotional while having to attend an important meeting in their Seattle office. Perhaps Daegan felt the same, trying to focus on work and the upcoming meeting, with plans to talk to her afterward.

Time flew. They were whisked away to the office where Daegan barked orders, praised a few employees, and tore Rogera new asshole. Kinsley took notes, made phone calls, ran a few errands, and did it all without making eye contact with Daegan. Anytime he would speak to her, she would look down, to the side—anywhere but into those brown eyes she longed for. With so much to keep her busy, she was able to maintain a professional demeanor that belied the emotional storm within her.

She met some rather lovely employees, including a few women who couldn’t stop gawking over their CEO. It was easy to gawk—hemade it easy. She wished she could make them stop. To lay claim to him and make sure all of them knew he washers.

Even though he wasn’t.

Yet every time Kinsley would spot a woman trying to flirt, Daegan would quickly dismiss her and turn to do something else. He didn’t joke or smile for them, the way he used to with her. Part of it made her happy; he didn’t flirt with every pretty face that came his way, that had to mean something, didn’t it? But then that part of her sank. Perhaps he only was receptive to the women he saw as a good lay and nothing more.

Was this him? Was he the type of man Cameron and Brienne warned her about?

A heaviness filled in her chest that would not be pushed aside.

Though their stay was short, it was productive. There was no conversation other than business as they rode back to the hotel Friday evening. The elevator trip to their respective rooms was completely silent. Somehow the gentle classical music of the hotel only made it worse.

“We’re planning to get to the airport at nine, so we better just order breakfast in our rooms and use that time to get ready. I’ll see you down in the lobby at eight-thirty.” Daegan still didn’t meet her eyes.

As he looked everywhere but at her, she bit back the urge to ask why he couldn’t just look her in the eye. “Yeah,” waswhat came out instead. She entered her room without another word, and thought she was being very professional when she shut the door quietly behind her. She wanted to say more. She wanted to slam the door in his face. But a potent cocktail of fear and stubbornness kept Kinsley biting her tongue.What was she expecting?A brief talk about what happened and where things sat now, at the very least. Weren’t they both adults here? But Daegan’s actions made his intentions very clear: strictly business as usual.

Her sleep was better Friday night than the night before. She woke up early Saturday morning feeling refreshed and ready to get back on the jet to see Daegan’s mother.

It hit her.

They were going to see his mother.

Well,hewas going to see his mother. She would presumably stay at a hotel with his staff who were traveling with them. At least at the hotel she could relax, gain some distance to sort things through. She could lay in bed, eating take-out, and deal with the heartbreak on her own.

No, not heartbreak.She’d been there before. This was just a bruise—a sting she would shake off.

She’d survived it all, and she’d survive this. Kinsley was nothing if not a master of plastering on a smile when her heart was in pieces. She could pass for being “just fine;” all she had to do was smile and be cheerful until her cheeks fell off. She had decades of practice.

Taking her time to dress and have her breakfast, she met Daegan in the lobby not a minute before. It was all she could do to avoid him as much as possible. Another luxury vehicle drove them to the airport. As they boarded the fine jet, Kinsley felt the sparkle of it wearing off.

Lars was waiting at the top of the steps to see where Kinsley would go. Without missing a beat, she sat in a seat near thewindow. If Daegan wanted her in his suite, he would have to say it. Lars walked over to her. “May I get you something to drink, miss?”

“Oh, just orange juice if you have some, please.”

“Right away, miss,” Lars said as he retreated to what Kinsley imagined was the galley.

Daegan came up the steps, phone in hand. As he walked past her to his suite, the absence of a glance was deafening. It was as if he wasn’t walking past her, but through her. The lack of a glance—of any acknowledgment—was louder than words.

Kinsley watched the door to the suite close shut. She let out a held breath as she felt it in her chest, even though he’d been perfectly polite about it. What was she expecting? A confession of feelings, some grand gesture? No. She knew better than to hope for any hint of romance after what had happened. But she’d still hoped. And yet, nothing. It was as if everything between them had been nothing but a fleeting moment in the dark.

If he wanted to shut her out, fine. She’d shut herself off, too. She had her own life, her own strength—and she’d make sure he saw just how strong she was. Kinsley wasn’t some weak, heartbroken girl who needed a man to hold her hand. She wasn’t going to beg for his attention or pine for something he wasn’t willing to give. She was stronger than that. Worse things had happened to her, and she would survive this, too.

The smooth leather seat beneath her felt cool, almost sterile, a sharp contrast to the warmth she’d felt in Daegan’s arms. The polished wood gleamed under the cabin lights, reflecting a version of herself she barely recognized—composed on the outside, but fracturing within.

Before take-off, Lars brought her the requested orange juice. She held the cold glass in her hands, letting the chill calm her even as a firestorm brewed within. The tart and sweet juice was a reminder that she could swallow anything and smile rightthrough it. Let him lock himself away. After all, she wasn’t the one hiding.

The flightfrom Seattle to Montana was short, but every minute of it was thick with unspoken words. Daegan had never felt so confined; the silence between him and Kinsley weighed heavy on something in his chest. When the descent began, he welcomed it, eager to escape the charged atmosphere of the cabin. His aunt’s homestead—where his mother lived—was about an hour from the airport. This meant a car ride that wouldn’t be any more comfortable than the last day and a half had been.

As they walked to the rental lot, he caught Kinsley staring. “You haven’t shaved,” she said, her eyes lingering on his face for a moment longer than necessary. “Forgot your razor, didn’t you?”

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