Page 113 of The Boss (The Boss 1)


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“I would definitely consider it,” I said carefully.

“Good.” He grinned at me. “At least you know you won’t have to do anything depraved behind locked doors with Gabriella.”

No, I’d be compromising my dignity in front of everyone. Much better.

I staggered out of the stairwell, feeling like I’d been hit by a truck.

I turned back and gave Jake my most serious look as I asked under my breath, “Is she making an announcement soon then? Courting subscribers?”

Jake grinned and said, low, an eye out for anyone who might overhear, “That’s the beauty part. She has someone who works right here at Porteras who’s borrowing the mailing list. Postcards and emails will hit subscribers this Friday.”

Borrowing? Stealing. Someone was going to steal the subscription list for her, so she could poach subscribers from Neil? It wasn’t unheard of for publications to share subscription lists, but not with rival publications. Doing it this way was dirty and underhanded.

But if Porteras went under, did I really want to go down with it?

Sirens that screamed, “Tell Neil!” accompanied every warning light flashing in my head. This was serious. Someone taking that list would affect… well, it would probably mean everyone who ever had access to it would be suspect. Maybe they would all get fired.

Maybe I would get fired. Who better than me to give her that list, since I’d had my nose about six feet deep in Gabriella’s ass the whole time I’d worked for her? They were going to suspect me. Oh god, Neil was going to suspect me.

But how could I tell him? I might lose my job either way, when the deception got uncovered. It wouldn’t be a secret for long, only one confused subscriber would have to write in and ask what the junk email or postcard was about. By that time, the damage to Porteras would be done, though. If Gabriella knew I was the whistle blower, I wouldn’t get a job with her. But if I didn’t tell Neil, I was betraying him on a pretty personal level.

I loved him. Could I really keep this a secret from him?

Chapter Nineteen

Friday night, I was feeling way better from my illness. My stomach was still kind of jumpy and sour every once in a while, but I attributed that to the whole stressful ethics issue I had going on.

I was dying to see Neil, but a little concerned about the secret job offer/office espionage that would undoubtedly blow up during the coming week. I knew I had to warn him about the subscriber list, but I wasn’t sure it was my place to break the chain of command. Did that fall under “let’s not discuss business?” I had already warned Rudy to keep an eye on Jake, and I assumed he wouldn’t have kept my suspicions from Neil. Rudy was sharp, and nothing serious would get past him.

If a real job offer panned out, I would bring it up with Neil then. If he was super mad about it, we’d deal with it. And if he couldn’t respect me for prioritizing my career over him, then maybe I’d fallen in love with the wrong guy, no matter how great the sex was, or how much fun we had together. I needed to stay Team Sophie.

I headed to Neil’s place straight from work, and actually beat him there. I waited for him in the lobby.

“This is why you need a key,” he said when he arrived. He took me into his arms and kissed my forehead before he released me and urged me toward the elevator.

“A key?” I considered that as the doors closed us in. “On one hand, you’re obviously not afraid that I’ll just drop by at a weird time or move in while you’re at work.”

“Sophie, you won’t even leave a spare toothbrush at my place, I don’t think I have to worry about you moving in uninvited.”

“Ooh, that reminds me, did you get my bag?” For the past few weekends, Neil had sent someone to the apartment to pick up my weekend bag, so I didn’t have to schlep it to work. I think Neil would have been thrilled if I would have just left some extra clothes and things at his place, but I was nowhere near ready for that.

“Tony picked it up this morning.” The doors opened and we stepped into the small vestibule. “You were about to tell me your other hand.”

“What other hand?” I asked, momentarily puzzled.

“The hand that will ultimately decline a key to my apartment,” he said, not meeting my eyes as he unlocked the door.

“Oh, that hand.” I tried to keep my tone light, because he was right, I wasn’t going to take a damn key. “Well, on that hand, I would have a key to your apartment. That might be a little heavy this early.”

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