Page 35 of Baby For My Bossy Fake Fiancé

He seemed to be staring a lot recently.

“Actually, yes,” I clarified. There was one question.

“Speak.”

“Mrs. Blackwood. She wants to sell her company.”

“I believe that much is obvious.”

I grimaced when the legs of his chair scraped the floor. “I know. It’s just, why?”

He uncrossed his legs before folding his arms. “Anyone can do anything they want.”

Whatever I had felt was now slowly being replaced with irritation. I could bet two kidneys that he knew what I meant. He just decided to be… himself.

“I know that sir,” the crisp in my voice reflected my irritation. It didn’t go unnoticed. “What I mean is the company seems to be stable. So why would anyone want to sell such?”

“And you have kept this question for how long?”

By now, I wanted to tug my hair and scream like a banshee. Why couldn’t he just answer the damn question?

“Since the moment she stepped in.”

He cast a curious glance at my form. “So then, why didn’t you ask her yourself.”

I dug my nails into my palm. “Because it’s not professional to probe.”

“So you do know you’re probing?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Revealing a client’s personal information to you is not professional.” He looked like he was stifling a yawn, while I was nearing madness.

“But I’ll tell you since you really want to know.”

It takes teetering on the edge of madness to have my questions answered by my boss. Noted.

“Terminal illness.”

“What?”

“Mrs. Blackwood has eight months to live. No husband, no children. She wants to see the company do well with someone capable. Hence the rush for the sales.”

My heart sank. She looked so warm and radiant.

“Get attached to the case. Not the client, Miss Walker. Or you’ll end up losing yourself,” he rose from his seat. “Or worse, your power.”

In two strides, he reached my seated frame. Leaning as his breath fanned my forehead. “And some things are best left unasked.”

I listened to his retreating footsteps until it disappeared. It was hard to resist the tears in my eyes. Life, indeed, was unfair.

After more moments of collecting myself, I picked up the files. And headed for the elevators.

The familiar warmth and freshness greeted me when I reached my office. Drained, I slumped in my seat.

Deciding not to think about it- about everything- I set to work, opening the document, Mr. Don had sent. I was a few minutes in when the telephone rang.

I picked it. “Your attention is needed in my office.”

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