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He considers me for a moment. “You want to know why I chose you.”

“Yes. I really do.”

“You won’t like the truth.”

I sigh, fucking tired. I was up at four this morning, worked overtime, and I still have a floor to finish mopping, a boss to break up with, groceries to pick up, and laundry to do. “I’m a grown-ass woman, Harlan Vance. I can take it.”

“Okay. I chose you because you needed it. Because you’re taking care of a loved one who’s unwell.”

His words hit me like a punch in the gut.

“And I chose you because you have an impeccable work ethic. But your other ethics are… questionable,” he finishes.

“Wow. You don’t pull punches, do you?”

I get up, turn my back to him, and walk over to one of the display cases. I press my hands to the cool glass surface, trying to stabilize myself, as anger and something like humiliation flood my veins, hot and kind of nauseating.

It feels like he just opened me up and looked inside.

The fact that he used my need to care for Mom… to manipulate me…

I turn to him as he gets up and walks slowly toward me. “But… how did you know anything about me?”

“I had my staff search our employee database,” he says calmly, “to find an employee who met the specific criteria I gave them.”

I seriously can’t believe what I’m hearing.

Who does that?

Oh, right. A man with a serious god complex.

“You told them to find you a fake lover to accompany you to a family dinner?”

“No. I told them to find someone who needed to keep her job, badly, so I have leverage. And someone who would be able to do what I needed her to do. Your situation at home, your secret relationship with your boss, and the fact that you already go by different names made you an ideal candidate.”

“And how did you know,” I say quietly, “that I was in a relationship with my boss? Or that my mom is sick?”

“Surveillance.”

I almost choke on my next words, I’m so shocked. “And is that how you find all your dates? You just go shopping in the employee database? Then stalk them? What a disgusting abuse of power.”

He tilts his head, regarding me for a moment. “You find me disgusting. Is that it?”

“Is that… what?”

His eyes burn as they hold mine. “The reason you don’t want to see me again.”

And I just say it. Because at this point, what does it matter? I can’t lose my job anymore. He’s not my boss anymore if he’s already forced me out. “I didn’t say I don’t want to see you again.” It’s barely a whisper.

“I didn’t say that either,” he growls, and a shiver runs down my spine.

Jesus Christ. This man has me spinning in circles. He wants me? But he can’t have me. Is that what it comes down to?

And he still chose me to pretend to be his fake lover.

And put my job in jeopardy.

After runningsurveillanceon me.