Page 60 of Sexting the Boss

Damien Zaitsev.

Walking straight toward us.

My stomach dips, but I keep my face neutral.

Ryan, on the other hand, isn’t as composed. He stammers something unintelligible, barely managing to get out, “Mr. Zaitsev—uh—hello, sir.”

Damien doesn’t break stride.

Doesn’t even slow down.

Just barely glances at us—at me—before continuing past, his expression cold, unreadable, bored.

Like we’re nothing.

Like we’re beneath his notice.

Asshole.

I don’t even realize I muttered it until Ryan elbows me sharply. “Shush!” he hisses. “The CEO might hear you!”

The elevator doors ding open, and I step inside with Ryan, setting the box down with more force than necessary.

“Relax, he’s already gone.”

* * *

My bed is soft,my body aching from a long, exhausting day, but my mind won’t shut up.

I keep replaying everything.

And, of course, the fact that my mystery texter disappeared on me.

I stare at my phone, contemplating texting him again?—

Then it buzzes.

I jump, nearly dropping it.

Unknown Number: Busy today.

I exhale, rolling my eyes.

Oh, so now he has time.

Me: Oh, sure. Ignore me all day and then drop in like you’re some mysterious secret agent. That’s fine. Totally normal.

A pause.

Then—

Unknown Number: Secret agent? I like that. Maybe I was on a mission.

I snort, rolling onto my side.

Me: Yeah? And what, exactly, were you doing? Chasing bad guys? Saving the world?

Unknown Number: Something like that.

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