Page 94 of The Grumpy Boss Agreement

“Whoa. That was quick,” Sav mutters. “If she thinks she can stop me from returning this coat, she is wrong.”

While Sav is talking, I notice the sales tag still dangling from her elbow. I rip it off and make a show of stuffing it into my pocket.

“Just say thank you, and enjoy the damned coat,” I demand.

Sav swallows and looks toward me. She waves the receipt.

“Thank you. But this is too much.”

“We’ll call it a business expense. I have a cocktail party tomorrow night that I have to attend. You needed a new dress to be my plus one.”

“Your plus one? Isn’t that kind of… like being your date?”

“No. You’ll be attending as my personal assistant and taking notes on any business I talk while we’re there.”

She squints at me with suspicious eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m always sure.”

She huffs. “What about my car?”

“I’ll let you know what the mechanic says. Until we hear back, I can be your chauffeur.”

Sav frowns. “What? Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you suddenly being so nice?”

My mouth opens, but I don’t know what to say. Why am I being so nice to Sav?

I shrug a shoulder.

“I’m in a good mood. I would take advantage while you can.”

Sav studies me with that vibrant hazel gaze of hers. She purses her lips.

My eyes are drawn down to the fullness of the curve of her perfectly pink bottom lip.

It feels good to dress her in the way she deserves. And after hearing about her date, it’s a strange way of claiming her. Marking her as off-limits, ever so subtly, to anyone who might get the wrong idea about who she belongs to. Even if she isn’t supposed to belong to me, it’s nice to pretend that she does.

23

Savannah

The cab that I ordered drops me off at a dock, leaving me to stare up at the huge black yacht parked just steps from where I stand. The yacht has four decks and looks to be about fifty feet long. It’s festooned out with gently twinkling lights, and I can hear a woman’s laughter coming from the upper decks.

Cole didn’t say anything about his party being on a ship. But as I’m trying to figure out what to do, a group of four people walk by me, laughing and having a good time. They head toward the yacht’s stairs and I trail behind them.

I follow the revelers up the stairs and into the main cabin. A curtain of warmth hits me as I enter. Jazz music plays and there is a buzz of banter as I bite my lower lip and try to decide where to go.

Cole didn’t tell me anything except to wear my new dress. I’m grateful now that he bought it for me, because as I look around at the well-to-do attendees in their tuxes and fancy dresses, I know I wouldn’t have had anything even close to appropriate to wear. At least now I don’t stick out like a sore thumb.

A couple pushes in the door behind me and I almost have to jump out of their way. People in fancy clothes are packed in this cabin and drinks are clearly flowing. Looking at the intoxicated flush on the face of the woman standing next to me, I wonder just how long it’s been since the first drink was poured. She makes me think it’s been a while.

“Savannah!” Cole calls.

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