Page 252 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Dee trusted me,” Sheila said. “You should too.”

Bringing Dee into this conversation wasn’t going to sway me. I ran the company now. “First of all, we sell furniture, not relationships. Second of all, Natasha wouldn’t enjoy this kind of campaign. She doesn’t like the public attention.” Even when the guys had asked her questions at dinner, she’d seemed anxious, changing the subject to her friend Stacy the moment she could. If that was enough to make her uncomfortable, I didn’t want to put her through this kind of nonsense. Being grilled by marketing was a nightmare. Hell, it was the last thing I wanted to do, especially considering this was all a giant sham.

“The promo gets easier with practice,” Sheila was quick to point out. She leaned around me to look at Natasha. “I promise.”

I shook my head. “Don’t you remember how things ended with the last couple that ran Saunders?”

The room grew quiet, uneasy. Sure, it was great to throw Nana Dee and Papa Davis up on the screen as an example of the good old days, and even my parents had some good years at first—for the company, anyway—but by the time their marriage came to an end, they’d almost managed to drive Saunders Furniture into the ground. I’d had to step in and take over.

“Point taken,” Sheila said, drumming her fingers against the table. I could tell I’d finally gotten through to her.

“Good,” I snapped, glancing around at the team. “Are we done here?”

“We’re done,” Sheila said.

Without a word, the team split off, scurrying back to their desks. I caught Natasha by the elbow as she made for the door, guiding her to the side of the room. “I need a word.”

“Do I have a choice?” she asked, glancing down where my hand wrapped around her arm.

I released her. She immediately crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked at me. The stare was icy. What the hell was her problem? Was she really that upset I’d shot down the idea of the marketing campaign? I’d have thought she’d be thrilled to be let off the hook. Whatever—if she wanted to be in a snit about it, that was her business. My business was to let her know my plans. “I have somewhere to take you after work.”

Natasha bristled. “Oh, gee, sounds fun and not weirdly cryptic at all.”

I huffed. “This is work related.”

“In what way?”

“That’s what you’ll find out when we get there.”

“Sounds like you just like ordering me around.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yes,” I said simply, daring her to push back. I didn’t mind her speaking her mind. After all, it was part of why I’d hired her. But at the end of the day, I was still the boss. She could accept that…or she could leave.

“Fine.”

“Should I be concerned about the fact you just drove me through an overgrown field, and we’ve now stopped next to an abandoned church?” Natasha asked. “Do you plan to kill me and bury my body here?”

“Too obvious,” I said.

She shot me a glare from the passenger seat. I’d had many passengers in my Lambo, but I had to admit Natasha looked damn good over there, even with the glare. It was like her curves had been made to ride in something so sleek and smooth and luxurious⁠—

Christ! I needed to stop thinking right now.

“This is definitely how crime documentaries start,” she muttered.

“The documentary comes after the crime,” I pointed out. “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Whatever.” She huffed. “What are we doing here, Trent?”

I arched my brow. “Come inside and I’ll show you.”

I didn’t wait for her response, opening the door and climbing out. “Come on,” I called back into the car, “before we lose the sun.”

Natasha finally exited the car as well, following me up the chipped concrete steps overgrown with weeds and wildflowers.

I pushed on the door, which did creak like something out of a horror movie, the sound echoing through the abandoned church. I half expected it to startle birds out of the rafters.

“Wow,” Natasha said as she walked in behind me, her tone making it clear she meant anything but wow. She ran her finger along one of the pews, flicking the dust from her fingertips. “This place is…well, it’s definitely a church.”