His Beauty Her Beast
“Very rom-com of you. Girl bumps into a guy, they flirt, share a dessert, and boom — it turns out he’s my enemy.”
“Your business rival,” she corrected. “Not a mafia don.”
I tilted my head. “Same thing.”
She gave me a tired look. “I keep my professional life separate from my personal one. Not that you’d understand—considering how you treat people like punching bags for your emotional baggage.”
I stepped forward.
That did it, and she knew it.
“I’m sorry”, I said, sarcastically sweet, “do I need to remind you whose company you work for?”
“You don’t have to. I feel it every time you slam doors and bark orders at me for things that aren’t my fault.”
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