Page 16 of All Tied Down

He mumbled fake apologies to everyone as he grabbed my elbow and, despite being shorter than me, manhandled me through the crowd using the entire length from his shoulder to the coffees in his hand to make a path.

Once we were outside, he handed me the coffees, pulled out his phone, and directed me into a waiting car. I got in without question and the rest is history.

Theo Rossi saved a stranger in a coffee shop when he could have walked away. We’d barely made it down the street before I offered him a job, and now he runs my life, and I take whatever shit he wants to give me because there’s a good chance I deserve it.

“You keep giving me raises and you won’t be able to afford me,” he says wryly. “Besides, you almost gave me time off while you were in Vegas so that’s something.”

“I sound terrible.”

“Awful. Worst boss I’ve ever had.”

I snort out a laugh as he moves from emptying bags to putting groceries away. I should probably help, but he gets mad when I put things where they don’t belong even though he doesn’t actually live here.

Maybe I secretly like people bossing me around.

The thought has my lips twitching as I grab plates from the cabinet along with forks and napkins, placing everything on the counter next to the takeout containers.

“Any fires to put out?” I ask, refilling my coffee as I watch Theo bustle around the kitchen.

“Buzz with you and Emerson is mostly positive. Obvious speculation on both sides but the general consensus is that they like you as a couple.”

“And the band?”

“Darren is still being an asshole—made some comments online about you guys that are…”

“Dickish?”

“Colorful”—he pauses—“and dickish. The trolls have latched on to that, obviously, because it’s salacious and they think they’re getting the inside scoop.”

“Do people still say inside scoop?”

“You’re missing the point,” he grumbles, plating his breakfast before leaning against the opposite counter to eat.

“No, I get the point. I’m just trying to not let him win. He knows he fucked up, and he thinks he can gain the public’s support and have them turn on me, but it’s my name on the fucking marquee.”

“You’re hot when you’re all riled up,” Emerson purrs as she sidles up next to me, my gaze immediately dropping down her body as if I’d be able to confirm her lack of panties just by looking at her.

I can’t and she knows it because her lips quirk up, and fuck, now she’s definitely got me riled up.

“Emerson, that one is yours,” Theo says, pointing at one of the containers with his fork. “Also is Des seeing anyone because he sounds”—he bats his lashes—“very interesting. Also is he into men?”

“I’m sure this will be shocking to the both of you considering the amount of oversharing and codependency I’ve been subjected to in the last twenty-four hours, but what Des does outside my office is none of my business.”

“Guess you could have a worse boss,” I whisper to Theo, whose eyes widen as Emerson’s eyes narrow.

“I’m sorry, I think I missed that. What did you say?” Emerson asks sweetly.

“Only that I’m very agreeable so if Theo wants to rearrange my living room, I have no intention on fighting him on it. Same goes for my schedule and social media. He basically does whatever he thinks is best.”

This time it’s Emerson who wrinkles her nose. “No, that would never happen.”

“See? Everyone gets what they want,” I offer but she shakes her head as I plate her food and hand it to her before doing mine.

I should probably suggest we sit at the island, but this seems to be working and it’s what I usually do anyway. I think I’ve only used my actual table once since I built this place.

“Thanks,” she says. “So what do we need to do to fix the publicity surrounding the band?”

“So far your marriage is working,”—Theo glances to me and I give a slight nod—“but Darren needs to go. He’s volatile and it’s only gotten worse. He’s telling anyone that will listen how much of a dog you were on tours. Parties and women. There’s some old pictures circulating.”