Page 22 of One Bossy Disaster


Font Size:  

The door slams behind him.

He’s gone without a single word meant for me.

Miss Cho looks like she’s holding in a sigh she’s too proud to release. She holds up a hand with a thin smile, looking exasperated, but in a patient way.

The woman might be an undercover saint if this is normal when it comes to babysitting Shepherd Foster.

“Please give me a moment. Sometimes Mr. Foster needs to be managed.”

My mouth threatens to drop and I hold it in place with sheer willpower and clenched teeth.

Foster’s assistant has just told me he needs to be managed? After insulting me in the worst way possible?

“Don’t worry,” she says. “Wait here and I’ll be right back.”

Then she leaves, following Foster out and stranding me in his cave of an office.

My whole head is ringing, pinched between humiliation and outrage and total confusion, but mostly one question that keeps blasting on repeat.

Girl, what the hell did you sign up for?

3

A Little Like Destiny (Shepherd)

Ialmost make it to the elevator when Miss Cho catches up with me, her tall heels beating the slate tiles like a drum.

For a hot second, I glare.

I’m tempted to order her back into my office to clean up the mess she’s made and find a suitable candidate.

Definitely not the nosy blonde mouse from the beach who never learned how to mind her own damned business.

Unfortunately, despite the fact that I call the shots, Hannah Cho can be incurably stubborn when she wants to be. She knows she’s too good at oiling this machine called Home Shepherd and that makes her essentially irreplaceable.

“Are you going down, sir?” she asks politely.

I grunt in response.

She takes that as a yes, stepping into the elevator after me just before the doors shut.

Fuck it, I could run.

The thought of punching the button, stopping on some random floor, and bolting is remarkably appealing.

Icouldthrow all caution to the wind and leave the elevator mere seconds before the door shuts and find another way out of this building. There’s no way she’d be able to catch up in those heels.

Still, I stab the button for the first floor with unwarranted viciousness and deflate, leaning against the chrome rail with my hands stuffed in my pockets.

Beside me, Hannah stands rigid, gripping her oversized white tablet.

We both know what this is about as we stare at the bright-red numbers ticking down on the elevator screen in acid silence.

I know what she’s doing, dammit.

Waiting me out.

Hannah has this way of radiating silent disapproval that would wear down a heart of iron—and all she has to do is wait for me to crack.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com