There was a huge part of me that couldn’t believe this was happening, but I had to face the fact that Brock—one of the main reasons why I’d left Philly, the man I’d loved with every ounce of my stupid little being and the man who broke my heart—was not just back in my life, he was also my boss.

Holy crap, this was like worse than a nightmare.

I had two options at this point.

Option one included me grabbing my purse, walking out of the office, whopping Brock over the head with the thing, and then driving straight to the unemployment office and then on to an epic job search. That option scared me, because hello, being jobless was not exactly a smart move, but having to see Brock five days a week also wasn’t a smart move. And his hard head would probably damage my purse.

Walking out of here meant no more wet food at all for Rhage.

Or new purses for me.

Option two required that I gain some lady balls and deal with the cards dealt, and I’d obviously done that before, to some extent. I was standing here today, and even though my life hadn’t panned out exactly like I’d expected it, I was a walking miracle. Dealing with Brock was by no means the hardest thing I’d had to stare down. I was finally where I felt like I needed to be.

I was finally starting to live outside the pages of my favorite books.

Brock had chased me out of my home, away from my family and friends, and out of my family business.

No, I told myself. That wasn’t exactly true. I made the decision to run from my home, away from my family and friends, and from my family legacy. That was all me.

Choosing to stay meant Fancy Feast for Rhage, a new purse or two for me eventually, and a job that would actually mean something to me.

But this option, staying here and working for Brock, terrified me. Not just because it truly forced me to move on from the mess that was our past, but also because it would inevitably require that I actually face it.

Obviously, I admittedly had a habit of not doing that.

There was a third option, I realized. I could stay and do this job while looking for a new one if being around Brock was just . . . well, too much.

Squaring my shoulders, I decided I was going to exist somewhere between option two and three and I walked around my desk and to the door, joining Brock.

“What?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.

One eyebrow arched. “Watching you in there, it seemed like you were deciding between toppling the desk and breaking a window or walking out here and staying, working for your family like you always wanted to.”