All Chapters of Before He Was My Boss.: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Donovan Reynor. I could hear the sound of rustle of clothing as she dressed up. She stood behind me, staring. Hopeful. The sex had been really good. Practiced, like the previous times before. “So...can we do it again, next week?” Her voice held a thread of hope I'd heard too many times before. Here we go. I turned to face her, my expression carefully neutral. She was beautiful, objectively and undeniably beautiful. Dark hair, sharp cheekbones, the kind of body most men would kill for. Yet, I felt nothing. “No.” I said, my voice flat and final. “It’s over.” Her hands still on her blouse. “Oh...Okay.” “Yeah.” “I just thought maybe...” She trailed off, then forced a smile. “Never mind.” “You should go.” “Right. Of course.” She grabbed her purse, and I could see her blinking fast. Shit. “Well. Thanks for the uhhh, you know....” She bolted and I heard her heels clicking fast down the hall. **** The hotel lobby was mostly empty, just a few people scattered around, soft jazz m

“Come.” I obeyed. Shutting the door quietly behind me. His expression remained ice-cold, one eyebrow furrowing in silent dismissal. “Sit.” It wasn’t a request. I eased myself slowly into the chair like it was something fragile, but the chair was a bit too low. I crashed harder than intended, my tits bouncing in compliance in my half-open shirt. I felt his gaze linger for the tiniest fraction of a second, before snapping away like it was too painful to look at. Well, damn, it wasn’t on purpose? Now he’s going to think I’m trying to get him to fall for me or something. I smoothened out my skirt as I stayed quiet, waiting for the next reaction because speaking seemed like one hell of an impossible task for him. As if pretending we never met wasn’t enough, he’s torturing me with silence too? Asshole. I swore he knew me. I saw his body fight for composure, the way he looked at me like I was irritating. That reaction didn’t come from nothing, it couldn’t have. “Anyway, I don’t car

Donovan. It was far more difficult than I’d expected. Why did she have to look like that? Innocent yet devastatingly dangerous. Like there was so much more beneath the disorganized, flustered version of herself she presented this morning. I was going to be angry. I was angry. I’d embarrassed her in front of everyone, made her feel small and incompetent. But then she’d sat down beside me, and one look at her face made me forget how to function, how to act still. She looked simple. Elegant. Dazzling in a way that made my chest tighten. Those glasses. Christ, those glasses were perfect on her. They framed her eyes, eyes that faltered and darted nervously, refusing to meet mine. I hadn’t allowed myself to really look at her before. Not like this. Not in detail. But now I saw everything. The freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose, dusting her cheeks like stars. The way her lips pressed together when she was concentrating. The delicate curve of her neck. The little pulse p

Aurélie Tess Blackwood.I didn’t need anyone to point it out for me to know.The client. Mr. Ross.He sat in a reserved corner of the restaurant, and there was absolutely nothing cheap about the place. It was exquisite in the kind of way that made you suddenly aware of every flaw in your outfit. Jazz filled the air, low, unhurried, confident. The waiters moved like they’d rehearsed for weeks, sophisticated in sleek modern suits and bow ties. The women paired theirs with ridiculously short, tight skirts that seemed far from professional.Mr. Ross looked expectant. On edge. His eyes scanned the room for someone more competent, more experienced, more professional.Not me.And then our eyes met, and realization settled over his face.I smoothed my expression into something resembling composure and crossed the room to meet him, my hand already extended before I’d fully arrived. “Mr. Ross. Aurélie Blackwood, from Reynor Corporations. Thank you for making the time.”He stood and shook my han

Donovan Reynor.I sat at my desk, staring at the contract in front of me without reading a single word.My mind was stuck on yesterday. Replaying it on a loop I couldn’t shut off.The restaurant. The jazz. The low lighting.And her sitting across from Ross, smiling. Laughing. That bright, unrestrained laugh that I’d only heard once before when she sat across from me, beautiful and mine.But she wasn’t mine. She was never supposed to be mine.And yet, watching Ross lean forward, watching him say something that made her press her fingers to her mouth to stifle that laugh, something inside me snapped.My stomach had twisted so violently I thought I’d be sick. Every muscle in my body had gone rigid with the overwhelming, irrational urge to cross that restaurant and put my fist through Ross’s smug fucking face.She was working. She was doing her job. That’s all.But it didn’t matter. Because all I could see was the way he looked at her, like she was something precious, something worth the