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—since my secretary is the type to wait patiently for her boss and keep the doors open.

Not.

I glare down at her, and Shayla's expression once again turns angelic. "Cardio is always good for one's health, Mr. Kontides. Especially at your age."

How many times do I have to remind her—

Shayla adjusts her hold on her tablet, and I'm distracted by the cheap gold band on her finger catching light.

And annoyed.

"Why are you still wearing that?" I demand.

Shayla blinks in surprise. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"I'm not talking about your clothes," I say impatiently. "Why do you insist on wearing your ring when you're already divorced?"

"Oh. That." And then she shrugs and leaves it at that.

"You should get over that scum."

Shayla peers up at me. "I'm starting to feel concerned that you're concerned. Should I call for a doctor?"

"Shut up."

"And there's the boss I know—"

"But not love?"

The word hangs between us, strangely charged.

But my secretary doesn't even blink. "Love isn't real."

I grunt. I think the same. But it doesn't feel right that my secretary does, too.



















Chapter Two