HIS MINNIE MOUSE

Claire’s POVIf I have to hunt down one more brand of homemade artisan goat-milk yogurt for a man who literally has no soul to digest it, I am going to make sure I key that man’s new car.I’m standing under a bus stop shed while the rain pours down mercilessly in torrents, holding a box of burger—because apparently, the texture makes him think well—and goat milk yogurt.Scott Smith is the worst boss I could have ever asked for.And honestly, I should have known that accepting this job offer with such a generous salary meant sacrificing my mental health.I’m surprised I have lasted three years with him.“Omg! Shit!” I curse out loud as a speeding car splashes water all over my skirt. I check on the box I'm holding first because his food matters more than a skirt, and he is so heartless he would literally send me back.Plus, my clothes are already a bit wet. It is a miracle I'm not dripping.My phone keeps buzzing in my pocket, but with my two hands occupied, I can’t check it. I mentall

“She is under the impression that I have finally ‘settled down.’ She thinks I live in a warm, domestic home and not a glass cage, and if she sees this place looking like a showroom for a bachelor pad, she will stay in New York until she finds me a wife. She needs me to have one before she dies.”I let out a short, surprised laugh, and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. “The great Scott Smith is afraid of a little old lady?”He turns to me, his eyes narrowing, and he steps into my space until I can smell the faint scent of whiskey on his skin. “She isn’t just a lady. And she wants to see a life here that I don't have.”He looks at the apartment, then back at me, and I see a lightbulb go off in his head that makes me want to turn around and bolt for the elevator.“Stay.” he says. It isn’t a request.“Excuse me?”“Help me finish this. Help me make this place look like a human being lives here. We will go out to buy plants, move the furniture, hide the whiskey—I don’t care. Just

I sigh and rub my temples as I step into the luxury department store. After the morning I’ve had—being bent over a kitchen counter by my boss and then basically being proposed to for a business arrangement—I deserve a new pair of shoes.My Zara shoes were officially retired after the yogurt incident.I pick out a pair of sleek, black stilettos with red bottoms and hand my card to the cashier with a small, tired smile.“Declined,” the woman says after swiping it.I blink. “I’m sorry? Try again, please.”Even if I didn’t have money on the card—which I most definitely did—Scott was supposed to send me money for playing girlfriend this morning.She swipes it again. “Declined, ma'am.”I pull out my spare credit card that I only use for emergencies. Of all days that my credit card company decided to screw me over, it was this one. Fuck. “Try this one.”“Also declined.”My heart does a weird little skip.That wasn’t possible.I pull out my phone, my fingers trembling slightly as I logg int

Claire's POV. My heart flutters the moment I heard that. I can't answer that. I just stare into his eyes, hoping he can see the shock in them. As if on cue,his lips curl into a small smirk, his hand on my waist rubbing me softly as he turns me to face his grandmother. Scott's grandmother still has the same expression she had when I'd walked in. Except this time, she is glaring at Scott, not at me. I expect her to bombard him with a lot of questions but her next words surprise me. “I'll be in my room,” she declares, turning on her heels.The sounds of her walking up the stairs echoes through the room in soft clicks. And in no time it stops. The moment it stops, I turn to face Scott, arms crossed. “Sir. What was that about? At least give me a heads-up before kissing me. This is the second time!” I grit out, my lips still tingling from the kiss. Scott doesn't utter a word. He stares at me, then his eyes move to my chest that is mildly exposed and then his eyes move lower. I should

Claire’s POV.The last thing I want is to spend the next few months of my life trying to impress a woman I barely know. I didn't like her comments. But I also couldn't get over Scott's defense. “I love her for who she is. And even if she wasn't a great cook, she's still the one my heart belongs to.” My heart flutters from the replay of those words. He'd called me his woman. He'd defended me like an ideal boyfriend would. Who would have thought that my arrogant boss has that in him? I've never seen that side of Scott before and now that I’ve seen it, I wish he is always like that with me. I adjust my body on the couch, the blush light coming from my laptop washing over my face. I've been sitting in front of this since I got home. Work is my best distraction from thoughts, but tonight not even the series of unattended emails can get Scott out of my mind. My mind trails back to what happened before the knock on the door. The way he pulled my dress until I was sitting on him with j