She’s another one. All that glossy hair and perfect bone structure and the kind of effortless beauty that probably gets her upgraded to first class just for existing. She and Gabriella Hale could start a club. TheWomen Who Make Bree Feel Like a Horse Society. Membership: exclusive. Horses: not invited.
Stop it.
Horses are pretty, too.
Super pretty.
Yeah, except not when in human form.
Stop!
“Well, I have to go!” I tell Piper, and make a hasty retreat before my feelings of inadequacy become too obvious.
I return to my desk outside Nico’s office and try to focus on the donor response matrix that’s been my constant companion for days.
But I keep thinking about Gabriella Hale. Her perfect hair. Her designer dress. The way she looked at me like I was furniture.
And I also keep thinking about the way Nico looked when he defended me.
It doesn’t mean anything.
It was one moment of defense.
But when I look up and catch him watching me through the glass walls of his office, our eyes meeting for just a second before we both look away...
I’m not so sure anymore.
11
Nico
Ican’t stop thinking about it.
Gabriella’s face when I shut her down.
The way Bree looked at me after. That brief flash of something in those amber-brown eyes before she turned back to her laptop.
Why the hell did I do that?
It’s the next day now, 7:45 AM, and I’m standing at my office windows pretending to review the latest projections on my tablet. But my brain keeps circling back to that moment.
Gabriella was being a bitch. That’s the simple explanation. She insulted my employee. I corrected the situation. End of story.
Except it’s not the end of the fucking story, is it?
I didn’t defend Paloma when Martin called her media strategy “amateur hour” at last month’s board meeting. Didn’t say a word when Dashiell got dressed down by that investor for the Q2 numbers. Hell, I’ve publicly eviscerated people on my own team for less than what Gabriella said.
But Bree? One condescending comment about her filing skills and I went nuclear.
I rub the scar at my jaw. Bad habit.
Through the glass wall, I can see her at her desk. Bree is in a navy blazer that hugs her curves in ways I’m definitely not supposed to notice. She’s typing something, those slender fingers moving across the keyboard, and I remember how they felt cleaning the cut on my hand. I remember how they felt when we I fucked her on—
Enough.
I have bigger problems than my inappropriate fixation on my secretary. Martin Hale is three votes away from restructuring my board. And in fifteen minutes, I have an executive team meeting where Elspeth is presenting her operational efficiency proposal.
A proposal that’s going to be a disaster.
