Page 2 of Fiancé for Hire

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Days later, Antika tossed her favorite pen onto the desk and rocked back in her office chair. She hated meetings, and today had been loaded with them. She had one more to attend.

Every other Wednesday, the directors met with the big bosses, and those gatherings were mentally draining.

But worse than that, she’d have to spend those two hours with Edward—her ex-boyfriend—sitting at the table.

Antika started to rub her eyes but stopped herself just in time. She rarely wore eye makeup, but today was different. Shamelessly, she wanted to look good for Edward.

Not that she wanted him back. No, that was definitely not the case.

She wanted to show him that her life was better without him. What better way to demonstrate that than looking her best at work?

That was also why she’d worn a dusty blue wrap dress that stopped above her knees and had gorgeous bell sleeves. The matching high heels were sexy; too bad they were so uncomfortable.

Still, she felt beautiful. More so than she did when she wore her usual conservative pantsuits to work. Tamera had been on her about upping her wardrobe game, especially since Douchebag Edward—Tamera’s words—thought that she, Antika, was sitting at home eating bon bons and pining over him.

She wasn’t.

Well, not exactly.

No, she hadn’t been out much since they broke up, but it wasn’t because she was miserable without him. It had everything to do with the fact that she was sick of men, especially him.

A knock sounded on her door, and Antika sat forward. “Come in,” she called out.

The door swung open, and her administrative assistant stuck her head in. “Just wanted to remind you about your meeting that starts in fifteen minutes. They moved it to the tasting room.”

Antika sighed. That meant that they had company—most likely a new client who probably bought wine samples. “Okay, thanks, Megan.”

“No problem.” Megan backed up, closing the door behind her.

Antika opened the bottom desk drawer and removed her large purse. After checking her makeup and reapplying her tinted lip gloss, she headed to the tasting room. All was fine until she spotted Edward flirting with one of the front desk secretaries.

The way the woman was batting her long fake eyelashes and touching his arm, it was safe to say they were…friendly. Which shouldn’t be a surprise. It seemed Edward was making his way around to every female in the office.

Antika hated that she’d allowed herself to be one of them.

They must’ve heard her footsteps drawing closer because they jumped apart. The moment Edward saw Antika, that smug smile of his—the one that grated on her nerves—spread across his lips.

How the heck had she ever been attracted to him?

Sure, he was good-looking in a young Malik Yoba kind of way when he played J.C. onNew York Undercover. Tall, dark, with sexy bedroom eyes and a body designed for bear hugs, but still…Edward was an arrogant asshole. It frustrated her that she had wasted months of her valuable time with the jerk.

“Hello, Antika. If you’re heading to the meeting, I’ll walk with you,” he said, winking at the secretary before pushing away from the counter that she was sitting behind.

“Don’t bother. I didn’t mean to interrupt your next conquest,” Antika said, picking up speed in hopes that he’d get the message. Of course he didn’t. She should’ve ignored him.

“You didn’t interrupt anything, and Latoria is not my next conquest. We’re just…hanging.”

“Either way, I feel sorry for her.” Antika felt bad for any woman who’d end up with the narcissistic sleazebag.

Edward laughed and the guttural sound was like having thousands of ants skittering across her skin. Then hetsked. “Poor Antika. Jealousy doesn’t look good on you. I guess that means that you’re still a bitter spinster with no hopes of ever finding someone whose interest you can keep.”

Antika almost clutched her chest at the comment. It hit her right in the heart, and it was a struggle to keep her head held high as she walked a little faster. Leave it to him to touch on one of her insecurities.

“I see you dressed up today. Nice try hiding those thick thighs and that belly roll,” he continued, smirking as he shook his head. “Don’t you get tired of your thighs rubbing together and your stomach jiggling?”

Bam!Another direct hit.

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