Page 152 of One Bossy Disaster

“My mess started this, Destiny. I won’t let you go alone.”

Yeah, fuck, maybe I am taking this possessive bullshit too far.

But the thought of her meeting this flippant shit-stirrer alone makes my blood boil. Like any new wave media jackal, she could spin whatever story she pleases out of the slightest word.

Nice people don’t stake their careers on gossip that eats through lives like acid.

“I don’t know.” She frowns. “Shepherd, if we turn up together—”

“It means we’re a united front, committed to the truth.”

“But what if she suspects we’re just trying to bury it? And that a whole lot of somethingdidhappen?”

“Who doesn’t suspect that now? Hell, they’re right,” I tell her. I swirl my wine before taking a sip, choosing my words carefully. “Besides, her olive branch could be an ambush. It’s better you don’t walk in there alone.”

“I’m not helpless, you know.”

“That’s the point. You’re far from it. Even the strongest know when they need backup.”

“What happens if this is a trap and she’s just waiting for us to walk in together so she can tell her followers we’re a thing?”

“Then my lawyers will move so fast she’ll wish she had birds eating her eyes instead.”

“Eww.” She wrinkles her nose. “It’s not illegal.”

“No, but I imagine what she’s trying to achieve with unsupported smears isn’t strictly immune to legal action, either.”

Destiny sighs and ducks her head down against Molly as she embraces the dog.

I try not to be distracted by how charming she is.

She warned me that the pup is young and her training isn’t perfect, but they both seem to have the bond any good dog owner should.

And seeing it’s as sweet in person as it looks online only makes me angrier that there’s some asshole firing potshots from the shadows, not caring if they tear down Destiny to feed their little lies.

It’s more than that, too.

Like the fact that she’s an addiction.

A sugar rush in slim, blonde flesh I can barely keep my hands away from when she’s this close, here in the privacy of my home.

No office politics here.

Just us.

Alone and intoxicating.

Maybe the damned wine was a bad idea after all.

Still, I know the way I’m feeling has nothing to do with booze and everything to do with the beautiful creature across from me now.

“Okay,” Destiny says finally. “So let’s say we both go and have this sit-down. What’s the best-case scenario?”

“Your frenemy publicly retracts her statement. Worst case, she doesn’t and we’re no worse off than when we started. Arriving together doesn’t mean anything, Dess.” Damn. The nickname slips off my tongue as easy as honey. “We’re both in it now, whether we like it or not.”

“Yeah, I’m... I’m sorry. I can’t believe it’s gotten so out of hand.”

“Don’t apologize,” I clip. “You’re not the one responsible.”

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