The Big Boss

“How many clients do you have tomorrow?”

“Two. Why?”

She grimaces. “I was wondering if you wanted to earn a bit more on top of that tip. I’ll definitely be in tomorrow, but I could use the help.”

“Sure. Both of my clients are early in the day so I can be there by mid-morning.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

I laugh. “It’s not a problem. But really Lila, you need to hire someone to help you. I don’t mind doing it—you know I don’t—but sick days happen, and you’ve got enough business that you could use an assistant.” It was lucky that she got sick when she did. She was able to have the weekend off and take off today. One day lost instead of three. Small favors. She brings in someone a couple days a week for a few hours to lessen the load, but it’s just not enough.

“Yeah,” she sighs. We’ve had this conversation before. “I know. I want to look into it in a few months when I have more cover. If Silverman stays my client, then I will definitely be able to bring someone on. The amount of money he pays is that good.”

“So he’s pretty important to your future?”

“Yup.”

I shake my head. “I’m really glad that you didn’t tell me that before I went today. It probably would have been worse. I might have vomited on his floor.”

Lila waves a hand. “It’s fine, you’re fine. He can be an exacting client, but he’s still human. And every human makes mistakes.”

Keenan Silverman doesn’t seem like the kind of man that makes mistakes to me. Or tolerates them. The only reason I think we’re in the clear is because of the note. He wouldn’t have said that her business was a good investment if he was going to fire her tomorrow. That’s good news at the very least.

Wandering around, I start to tidy. It’s a habit when I’m anxious or my brain won’t slow down. And with Lila’s sickness, there’s plenty to clean. She laughs softly as I attack the pile of magazines she’s been working through. They’re spilled off the coffee table and onto the floor. There’s more than a few that have ads on the back—cologne ads featuring ripped men staring out of the pages trying to entice people.

Normally, it would work. But right now all I can think about is the fact that none to them hold a candle to Keenan Silverman, and I haven’t even seen his body. I don’t need to. He’s hotter than them, hands down.

A blush rises up my chest onto my cheeks, and I shove him out of my mind. He shouldn’t be in there at all. He was entitled and snobbish and just…ugh.

I set the magazines down in a stack a little too hard. Lila’s eyes go wide. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I say, smiling. Just plagued by the memories of the most confusing encounter I’ve ever had. Thankfully when I look at the stove, I see steam rising from the pot. “Soup is boiling.”

“It smells amazing,” Lila admits.

“It will be!”

Moving to check the soup, I shove Keenan out of my mind. He’s just a hot guy. Nothing more. He’s entitled, rich, and selfish. Just because Lila needs him doesn’t mean I do, and I don’t ever want to see him again.

3

Keenan

I want to see her again.

That’s the thought that’s been plaguing my brain ever since she practically sprinted out of my office. Every time my eyes land on that damned bouquet that’s sitting on my desk.

It’s long past quitting time, but I can’t leave yet. Too much to do, and that’s not being helped by distracting memories. Might as well relax a little at least.

I cross over to the bar and pour myself a glass of whiskey. Smooth smoke on my tongue. Just the cost of this glass is more than some people’s yearly salary. But I only tolerate the best in everything I do, and I have accomplished that with my business. So now I can afford luxuries like this whiskey.

The flowers catch my eyes again, especially that broken daisy. Normally I would be furious about the damage, but that mark…it was proof that she was standing here. I sigh as I return to the papers on my desk. Plans for a new development in the city, but there are logjams we have to work through. Permits. Demolition. More permits. Supply chains. More permits. Construction. Not the world’s most exciting evening. But it has to be done.

I’m sure if she were here it would be much more interesting. She was fire that I wanted to let burn me. She was defiant and open—something that I rarely see every day. I’m not used to anyone showing their authentic feelings to me. I’m the boss. The billionaire. Everyone needs or wants something from me, and disagreeing with me is never the way to get it.