“Miss Sterling?” Mr. Hudson snapped me out of my thoughts. “Grab your things and walk toward the doors. Now.”
“What if I have to go to the bathroom?” I asked, remembering a separate exit there.
“You don’t,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “But there’s a female guard outside those doors, if you’re thinking about running out on me again.”
Welp, there goes that.
Resigning myself to my fate, I picked up my purse and binder and headed for the door.
Marie and my coworkers eyed me with every step, but I didn’t dare make eye contact.
If this was how I was going to be let go, then I needed to accept the full walk of shame. Alone.
The guards opened the door and ushered me toward a black town car.
I slid onto the leather seat, clutching my things in my lap.
Mr. Hudson slid in from the other side and sat directly across from me. His eyes traveled from my heels up to my lips, and suddenly the backseat felt far too small for both of us.
The car pulled onto the street, and with every inch forward, the tension thickened, and I almost forgot how to breathe.
“If you’re going to press charges,” I said finally, “can you just let me know now?”
“Why would I press charges?” He arched a brow. “According to you, we’ve never met.”
“That’s exactly what I plan to tell my lawyer…”
His lips curved into a soft smile, but he didn’t let it stay.
Instead, he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen.
“Where are we on the next proposal, Anthony?” he asked. “Run down all the specifics.”
I was rendered invisible seconds later, so I turned my head toward the window as Manhattan passed by in a blur. The skyscrapers eventually disappeared into the rearview, and I realized this man was taking me out of New York.
Against my will.
THE CEO
DANTE
The definition of “regretful decision making” sat across from me, tapping her foot against my town car’s floor and biting her bottom lip. She was showing me exactly why I should’ve taken a separate car for this.
Or maybe just let this situation go.
Then again, if I let her go without punishment, other people might start thinking they could play games with me too.
“Would you care for something to drink, Miss?” Sarah turned around from the front seat. “We have another thirty minutes before we reach our destination.”
“Maybe.” She hesitated. “Like, a bottle of water?”
“No.” Sarah smiled and handed her my usual beverage card. “Like, whatever you want from this menu.”
I was about to tell Sarah that the card was meant for my guests, not thieves, but the way Miss Sterling’s eyes lit up caught me off guard.
“I’ll have the prosecco, if that’s okay,” she said.
“Do you typically drink alcohol on the job?” I asked her.
