Page 4 of Filthy Rich Bosses

I follow him to his office, my stomach in knots. As soon as the door closes, he turns to me with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to let you go," he says.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "What? But Dr. Hartley, that woman was—"

"I understand there are two sides to every story," he interrupts, "but we can't afford to lose clients over altercations like this. I'm truly sorry, Tessa."

I leave the clinic in a daze, barely registering the sympathetic glances from my now-former coworkers. The drive home is a blur, and before I know it, I'm unlocking my front door.

Lulu greets me with her usual enthusiasm, her tail wagging furiously. I drop to my knees, burying my face in her soft fur.

"At least I've still got you, girl," I murmur, fighting back tears.

After a few moments, I stand up, grabbing Lulu's leash. "Come on, let's go to the park. I need to clear my head."

The familiar path to the dog park helps calm my racing thoughts. As Lulu bounds ahead, I try to focus on the warm sun on my face and the gentle breeze rustling the leaves.

"What am I going to do now?" I wonder aloud, watching Lulu chase a butterfly.

"Talking to yourself?" a deep voice asks, sending a jolt of surprise through me.

I turn quickly, startled, and find myself facing a man sitting on the bench just behind me. He’s striking—extremely handsome, in a way that catches me off guard. His chiseled features seem like they belong in a magazine ad: strong jawline, high cheekbones, and a straight nose that gives him a rugged yet refined look. His dark hair is neatly styled, just the slightest hint of gray at his temples adding a touch of maturity to his otherwise youthful face.

He’s dressed impeccably in a perfectly tailored suit, sharp and professional, though something about the way he holds himself makes it clear that he’s used to making an impression.

He’s the kind of man who stands out without even trying—tall, with a presence that seems to fill the space around him, though he sits relaxed, his posture effortlessly confident. His blue eyes catch mine—piercing, almost unnerving, but there’s something warm in them, a mix of amusement and something else, something that feels like concern.

His eyes flicker to the dogs running around, then back to me, studying my face. There’s a calmness to him. I feel like he’s the type of man who sees right through you, who can read your intentions before you even know what you want. It’s unsettling and strangely comforting at the same time.

The way he’s looking at me, the way his features remain unreadable despite the warmth in his gaze, makes me wonder if he’s been through something similar. But I don’t ask. It’s easier to keep my thoughts to myself, to keep my walls up.

"Rough day?" he asks, his voice low and gentle, like he’s trying to make sure I’m all right without prying too much.

I blink, momentarily lost in the intensity of his gaze. I can’t seem to look away, even though part of me wants to. There's something about him—something commanding that makes mefeel small, vulnerable, but not in a threatening way. It’s more like he’s someone who’s seen a lot, someone who understands.

I let out a bitter laugh. "You could say that."

He watches me for a moment longer, and I wonder if he’s trying to figure out what my deal is, or if he can sense the weight of my frustration just beneath the surface. Then, as if deciding that’s enough, he shifts his gaze to Lulu, still chasing the butterfly. His expression softens, just a little, as though the dog’s antics are enough to distract him from whatever’s going on with me.

The silence between us is comfortable but heavy, like we’re both lost in our own thoughts.

I know I can’t linger in this moment for long. I’ve got things to do, and the last thing I need is to be sidetracked by some stranger with blue eyes that are too knowing for comfort.

I look back to Lulu, focusing on her as she darts around the enclosure. Stepping away from the man, I put my focus back on what matters: Lulu.

“Come, Lulu,” I say, infusing authority in my voice. Lulu immediately obeys as she always does. The sound of her paws pattering against the ground is soothing, grounding me back to reality.

I give her a treat from my pocket and start working through the commands we’ve been practicing. All the while, I can feel the man’s eyes on me.

Chapter 3

Tessa

Ihear his deep voice call out behind me, and my heart jumps into my throat. I grip the keys in my pocket—you know, just in case—as I turn to see the man from the bench striding towards us with purpose.

"Excuse me," he says, his piercing blue eyes locked on mine. "I need to know how you do that."

I blink, taken aback by his directness. "Do what?"

---