Page 3 of Who's The Boss? (Sassy in the City 4)

Now we were both acting like children. Fabulous.

He frowned at me. “What did I do to deserve that? I know being trapped is stressful but you don’t have to start calling me names.”

“You told me to stop talking!”

“Calm down.” He held his hand up like I was being irrational.

There it was again. He was patronizing me.

I pressed my lips tightly together and looked up at the ceiling, praying for composure. Zen. I needed it. Breathe deeply. It was a technique I had perfected working as a chef in the restaurant business. My job was nonstop stress. I knew how to handle a high-pressure situation and I didn’t need this total stranger telling me to calm down.

“I don’t think I’m the one who needs to calm down,” I said, my voice sugary sweet, a hard edge underlying it.

Any man with any sense would recognize the tone of a woman who is seriously, extensively pissed off.

But he clearly was an oblivious idiot.

“We’re both panicking, it’s okay,” he said. “This elevator is hot and no one is responding to us. We’ll get through this.”

Yep. Still clueless.

“Thanks, I feel so much better,” I said in a breathy voice. “You’re such a big, helpful man.” At eighteen I had intended to be an actress. I could bullshit with the best of them.

He eyed me like he couldn’t decide if I was insane or serious. He didn’t seem to catch on to the fact that I was mocking him.

“Come here,” he said, shocking the hell out of me by taking my hand into his.

Uh-oh. He was tugging me closer to him. “What are you doing?” I asked, barely holding on to the helpless female voice.

I did not want to be in his personal space.

“I think we could both use a hug.”

A hug? Oh, hell, no.

I jerked away from him. “What? No, I’m good, thanks.”

He laughed. “I knew you wouldn’t go through with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I called your bluff. Big, helpful man? You took it too far with that.”

Rolling my eyes, I stepped away. He was right, but I wasn’t going to admit that. “Don’t try me, you never know what I’ll do.”

“Is that so? Will you distract me from the fact that we’re going to suffocate and die in this elevator?”

“It depends how. I can tap-dance for you if you’d like.” I wasn’t serious. I couldn’t tap-dance, and if I did, I wasn’t doing it for him.

The corner of his mouth turned up. “You could kiss me.”

I gripped the strap of my purse, assessing him.

If I was offered a million dollars, I might kiss him. Might. I’d have to think about it for a minute or twelve.

But for free? For his amusement?

Hell no.

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