Chapters (32)
- Cover
- Praise for Adriana Herrera
- Also by Adriana Herrera
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Epilogue
- BPA
- Chapter One
“That’s not going to work,” I told him in a tone that managed to be polite, but also let him know I had no problem fighting over this. “We can do it over there on that couch together. Or get Mona to do it with Alba.” Chase’s assistant, who Chase loved to yell at, was professional and nice. And most importantly did not give off “greasy creep” vibes.
“Sure. I’ll find Mona.” Chase smiled tightly and turned around with his phone pressed to his ear.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Alba asked the moment Chase was out of earshot. Her voice was tight and she was sending serious daggers with her eyes. But if she was going to be mad because I was not letting that asshole get her alone, so be it.
I extended a hand toward the hallway leading to the rest of the penthouse.
“After you.” She cut her eyes at me and took off. I made myself not look below her shoulders, but it wasn’t easy. She was wearing white jeans that were honestly a public hazard and a flowy light blue shirt with a lacy thing underneath. It was so different than how she dressed when she worked for me. She dressed nice for the office, but none of it really gave off any sense of her personality. Here she was colorful and vivid. My train of thought was interrupted when she took a hard left into the library and got in my face as soon as the door closed.
“What are you doing?” she asked with her gigantic coffee mug clutched to her chest.
“Are you sure that’s big enough?” I pointed at the half-gallon-sized thing in her hand. It smelled like fake vanilla and hazelnut. “I guess you need to drink a lot of that watery coffee to get properly caffeinated.”
“I don’t know who the hell you’re trying to be right now, Theo Ganas, but if you sabotage this for me, I will never forgive you.” That caught me off-guard.
“How is me telling that guy to find an assistant if he wants to be in a room with you sabotage?”
For a second she seemed uncomfortable, but then she shrugged. “I don’t want him to think I’m difficult. I was late already this morning, and—”
“The commute would be a lot easier if you moved in here,” I interrupted, and for a second I thought she’d spit her coffee in my face. The penthouse had been offered to the two of us, but Alba had shot that down in a second when I suggested it.
“The last thing you want is me being anywhere I could smother you in your sleep,” she shot back, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek.
“How did I never catch on to this violent nature of yours, Alba Cressida?”