The Boss hole (An Enemies To Lovers Romance)

“Could we say I came fluttering like a gorgeous dove into your life? It sounds more girly than raging.”

I grinned. “Do gorgeous doves carry flamethrowers and have a tendency toward back talking and sass?”

“That’s an unfair representation of how things went. You were the most insufferable prick I’d ever laid eyes on.”

“From the first moment you laid eyes on me, I was almost certain you would’ve happily suffered my prick. Again and again.”

Jules reached between my legs, giving me a playful squeeze that made me straighten. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Or what?”

She kissed me softly, then pulled back with a wicked look in her eyes. “I’ll kiss you everywhere but where you really want me to.”

“Hm,” I said. “Good threat.” I imagined her feathering kisses down my torso and my inner thighs, refusing to give me the release I’d desperately want. “There’s a party this weekend,” I said.

Jules let go of her death grip between my legs. “What kind of party?”

“A masquerade party. At Coleton Central. All the important people will be there, your father included. But everyone will be wearing masks. I want you to be there.”

“You do?”

I nodded.

“I shouldn’t,” she said quickly. “What would your team think if they found out?”

“They were the ones who suggested it.”

A beautiful smile split across her face, reminding me how easy it had been for this woman to nearly derail ten years of determination. “I can really come?”

“You can,” I said. “I insist.”

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. “Message, from, Travis. Smith. Just making sure you’re home giving that girl of yours all the eggplant and banana she wanted and not at the office. End. Message.”

Jules stared at me in silent confusion for three full seconds before she spoke. “Why is your phone narrating your text messages out loud?”

“It’s been doing that all day,” I said, trying to keep my mouth still and fight the smile threatening to form.

“Were you alone when I texted you earlier?”

“I was in a meeting with the team.”

Jules put her hands over her eyes and buried her face in my chest, making a sound somewhere between laughing and crying. “I’m not going to be able to look any of them in the eyes,” she said once she’d calmed down.

“Good,” I said. “I don’t need them getting any ideas about trying to take you from me.”

She snorted. “Possessive, much?”

“Very much.” I wrapped my arms around her and held her until she fell asleep against me. I hoped this party would be good for her. Something to help let her be at least a little involved again. I could tell she was putting on a brave face, but quietly going stir crazy in the apartment all day every day.

32

Juliette

Coleton Central took up the top six floors of an eighty-story building in Manhattan. In many ways, the branch of Coleton was my father’s pride and joy. It was where he directed all the feelings and energy a normal parent would’ve given their children. Fittingly, the night of the masquerade ball was my first time seeing it.

The place stirred up unexpected feelings in me. I was glad I had a mask to wear to stop Adrian from being able to read the pain in my features.

We took the elevator to the top two floors of Coleton Central, which had been temporarily converted for the party. The place was lavish. Geometric lines seemed to be a theme of the decoration, from the patterns on plush rugs to even the way little slits of lights zig-zagged across the ceiling. The centerpiece of the large room was a dizzying expanse of windows with a breath-taking view of New York City.

I pictured my father standing there in the quiet hours of the morning with his hands behind his back, filled with pride.

“You okay?” Adrian asked. He was wearing a white mask that covered his eyes and nose, which forced all my attention on his ridiculously perfect jawline and mouth. I barely noticed the crowded room full of masked guests until then. I’d been so distracted by the room—by being here. A man in a suit was playing a piano. Leave it to my father. I imagined he’d had the piano brought in by crane—probably forcing him to temporarily remove the huge windows. It would’ve been an excessive, insane expense, and he was probably enjoying bragging about it to everyone here tonight.

That’s what happened when men had billions of dollars. They had to get creative to find new ways to waste their money, and the more excessive the waste, the more impressed their friends would be.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Fine is code for not okay,” Adrian said. He put a gentle hand on my arm, guiding me to stand by the large windows where the crowd was thinner. “Talk to me.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to admit what I was feeling. It felt childish to be jealous of a building, if that’s what I was even feeling. But I could see Adrian’s eyes behind the mask, and I felt comfortable with that gaze that had intimidated me so much when we first met. There was a freedom in the way he looked at me. It felt like unconditional acceptance, which was something I didn’t think I’d ever experienced before.