Page 22 of 21 Nights with Billionaire Boss

The timer beeps and I pack up, certain I’m ready.

“He’s in,” Julia says as I walk past.

I stop by the door and exhale before giving a quick knock and then turning the door handle.

Chance sits behind the desk, his eyes glued to his laptop screen. A line is between his brows, his lips tight.

I venture forward. “Good morning.”

He glances up and his expression clears in an instant.

I smile, hoping he’d return it, but he doesn’t. I let the smile drop.

“Need something?” he asks.

“No. I’m just here to inform you that your first meeting for the day is at nine a.m. And ask if there’s anything you’d like me to do?”

He sits back, brows furrowed. “You’ve gone through the schedule and everything?”

“Not everything.” I smile down at my heels but look up with a straight face. His surprise is thrilling. “Just today’s tasks.”

“Good.” He looks thoughtfully at his laptop, before meeting my eyes again. “There’s nothing for you to do right now, just go prepare for the meeting. You’ll be attending it too.”

I smile. “Great, I’ll go do that.” I turn to leave.

“Maddie?”

I do a one-eighty. “Yes?”

“It’s impressive you showed up early and got ready.”

“Thank you,” I say and leave.

That’s the last time he compliments my work. The rest of the day is all business. Meeting to meeting and running errands, which I don’t mind given that Ralph drives me around.

By the time I get home, I’m a zombie.

I manage a quick meal and drop into bed and I’m out.

I wake up to sunshine and a cool breeze on my face. I start to smile when my brain kicks into action.

I have to get to work!

After a quick shower, I pace before the closet. None of my clothes look made for the business environment at the office. What am I going to do?

I eye the clock. I set an early time for myself yesterday. I can’t fail.

I grab a short black skirt. It has frills but it’s better than the bright orange one and the white one that stops under my butt. This one reaches a few inches above my knees. I pick a crop top that sits just above the waistband of the skirt. And that’s the best I can do. I refuse to look at myself and slip on my shoes, grab my purse and the laptop, and head out.

I’m walking through the quiet lanes in between the villas when my senses prickle. I pause and look around. There’s no one out here. Why does it feel like there’s someone, though? I shake off the thought and keep walking.

By the time I get a cab, I’m many minutes too late.

We turn a corner when a flash of black catches my peripheral view. A car trundles many paces behind us. When we take another road, it’s still there.

My stomach coils. This doesn’t feel right.

“Hey, can you take another route?” I ask the cab driver.