Page 2 of Bossy Trouble

Ha, Georgia. That’s optimism on a whole different level.

“Sorry, Gar,” I said. “That was mean of me. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. It’s just…nerves and such.”

“It’s fine,” Garrett said, and I could tell from his tone that it was. Garrett could never hold a grudge very long. Neither of us could. It was our family curse.

“So, are you going to tell him?”

My brother’s next words sent a new burst of fresh anxiety spiraling through me. I knew exactly what my brother was talking about, and it was the number one reason I should not be here.

“No,” I said. “And I wish you’d stop asking about it.”

My brother was quiet. “I think maybe you should tell him.”

“Absolutely not.” Anger, hot and defensive, spiraled through me. “I can’t believe you would even suggest that. You were the one who told me not to tell him in the first place.”

“I know I just….” I could hear my brother’s reluctance over the phone. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just rethinking that decision at this point.”

“Well, don’t.” I made my tone as firm as possible so he would get the message. “No matter what, I’m not telling him aboutthat, and there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

“Georgia—”

“I gotta go, Gar. I’ll call you later, okay? Love you.” I hung up before he could say anything else. Then, I squared my shoulders and entered the lion’s den.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that hard to find out where Donovan’s office was. The helpful elevator sign pointed out that the CEO was on the top floor of the building, and security let me in with only a brief pat down. I didn’t face any more obstacles to meeting with Donovan until I was finally in front of his secretary’s desk.

There was no one there.

I hesitated at the desk, waffling about in indecision. Should I knock on the large wooden door in front of me? Did I just go in? Or would going in unexpectedly put him in a bad mood? What if he was already in a bad mood? I needed him to be in as good a mood as possible to negotiate with him. Maybe I could get away from this with fewer jabs if so.

I decided to give it a few minutes to see if his secretary would show up.

I took in the classic décor as I waited. The CEO’s suite was a space large enough to fit my entire apartment and then some. It was decorated tastefully in hues of coffee brown that matched the luxurious-looking minimalistic design of the space.

And, of course, he had leather paneling on his walls. Real leather. Probably Italian.

I reached out a hand, skimming over the smooth, embossed surface. Yup, definitely real leather, the type that probably scratched easily if you touched it too much.

The door opened, and I jumped back, swallowing the urge to blurt out, “I didn’t do it.”

Instead of Donovan, however, it was a woman exiting the office, a beautiful dark-haired woman with an exotic appeal. I knew her, although it took me a minute to place her face.

She was tall and drop-dead gorgeous. Her face was something that poets probably wrote sonnets about. When I saw the trademark beauty spot at the side of her lip, it finally hit me who she was.

Sasha Ahmed. She was a supermodel, and if the tabloids were to be believed, she was Donovan’s latest fling.

I actively ignored the churning in my stomach, sending the woman a friendly smile when our eyes met.

She didn’t return it, although she didn’t look particularly displeased to be seeing me either.

If I could describe her expression, it was indifference. She looked so thoroughly unimpressed by me. As if this meeting wasn’t at all a factor in her day. She walked away without returning my greeting or acknowledging my presence in any way. Perhaps someone else would have mistaken her rudeness for possessiveness, but I didn’t think that was it. It probably would never occur to her that a man like Donovan would even look at a woman like me, much less cheat on her with me.

But he’d looked alright. He was many things, but Donovan had certainly been attracted enough to me when it mattered.

Enough of this,I thought.I’m going in.

I pushed open the door of his office, my heart leaping into my throat at his softly muttered, “You left something, Sasha?”

Even before I saw him, that voice did things to me, bringing back memories I thought I’d buried nights ago.

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