The Casanova (The Miles High Club 3)

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m . . .” I pause. Huh? “I’m explaining the projection report. Isn’t that . . . ?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Is this an entrapment?”

“I’m sorry . . .” I frown.

“Is that your plan?”

“I don’t understand.”

He stands and puts his hands in his suit pockets as if angered. “That’s it . . . isn’t it?”

“What?” I shake my head, confused.

“Do you really hate me that much that you would stoop that low?”

“What are you talking about?” I frown again.

He screws up his face. “Come off it, Landon. I wasn’t born yesterday. It’s all making sense now.”

“Well.” I widen my eyes. “Good, because you can explain it to me. I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s wrong with this report?”

“I can see it so clearly now . . .” He shakes his head as if having an epiphany. “Of course, that’s it,” he whispers under his breath.

“Mr. Miles.”

“Elliot,” he corrects me. “And don’t give me your fucking shit.” He picks up a remote from his desk and points it to the corner of the ceiling; I glance up and see the green light go off. He just turned the security cameras off.

“So, this is your plan?” he sneers.

“Plan?”

“Turn your stupid boss on, until he cracks and pursues you. Then you have him charged with sexual harassment in the workplace.”

My mouth falls open in horror. “What?”

“Oh, please.” He screws up his face in disgust. “It’s clear as day now—the hot little dress, turning up at that event looking like a walking fucking orgasm and then going home with another man. The sauna, ha.” He throws his head back. “The sauna was a good one, what chance do I have seeing you hot and sweaty in a bikini like that?”

I stare at him as my brain misfires.

I turn him on.

“You can cut the shit, right fucking now,” he growls.

My temper begins to simmer. “Turn the camera back on for this because I want you to rewatch it later when you’re in a straitjacket.” I stand and we come toe to toe. “For your information . . . Mr. Miles,” I sneer, “I have just come out of a traumatic period in my life and have just started to refind myself. My new clothes, male friendships, and dresses have nothing to do with you or your inflated ego.”

He narrows his eyes as we glare at each other.

“This may come as a surprise, but I have only ever treated you as you have treated me, with contempt. Excuse me for not lining up to suck your dick like the rest of the stupid female population.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“I know that I’m not a bitch. You, however, are a fucking asshole . . . and stupidly, for a few moments there, I forgot.”

I slam the report folder down on his desk.

“What was the trauma in your life?” he barks.

“None of your business.” I turn and walk toward the door.

“Kate.”

I turn like the devil himself and point at him. “You don’t get to call me that,” I growl. “To you, I’m Kathryn.” I march out the door and straight through reception, hit the elevator button and bite my lip to hold it in.

I can feel the angry tears coming.

Don’t cry . . . don’t cry . . . don’t you fucking dare let him make you cry.

Entrapment.

What an asshole.

Chapter 4

I storm into the elevator like the Hulk. After the worst day in history I am ready to fight someone . . . anyone.

Come at me, bitches, because I am ready to rumble.

After my meeting with fuck-face Miles this morning, the day started to spiral. Before tea break, we had a computer glitch that appeared for no reason and wouldn’t go away. Then when I was on my break, I got an urgent call that the entire network had crashed. I had to rush back from lunch before my food had even arrived and go into damage repair. I ended up having to shut down the entire system and reboot the whole building, then to top off the debacle I got a call from fuck-face to tell me to hurry up about it.

My fury bubbles deep in my stomach. Hurry up about it.

I’ll give him hurry up about it.

It’s now 7 p.m. and I’m just leaving, I’m tired, I’m angry, and worst of all, I’m hangry.

I could eat a horse and chase the rider.

I’m going straight to the nearest bar and having the largest chicken schnitzel and fries, and ten thousand wines.

The elevator doors open and I look out onto the street and roll my eyes. Of course it’s fucking raining.

This day is a living hell.

I exhale heavily and walk toward the doors and I hear the elevator ding.

“Kathryn.” A deep voice calls from behind me. “Wait up.” I turn to see Elliot stepping out of the elevator.