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Roth was leaning against the glass, phone to his ear, when she emerged in just her boots. She hurried across the room to snatch her bra from the chair and retrieve her dress from the floor in front of his bookshelf. She absently scanned the books as she changed. She was about to turn away when she spotted a familiar title on an upper shelf. She did a double take and went up on tiptoes to get a better look before whirling to face Roth.
He stood behind his desk, phone still to his ear, as he watched her. His face gave her no indication of his thoughts or feelings. He had her work as Minnie and Thalia shelved among investment books like The Intelligent Investor by Benjamin Graham and Common Stock and Uncommon Profits by Philip Fisher. Seeing her book’s neon-pink spine beside a worn copy of Born Mindset by Les Nightingale, a revered speaker who had been friends with her father, seemed sacrilegious. She had no idea why the hell Roth would do such a thing, but now wasn’t the time to ask.
She was slipping on her coat when he said, “Yes, I’ll see you soon.”
As silence fell, she fixed her collar. “I’ll get out of your hair.” She crouched to pick up her underwear, purse, and the bag of cookies she’d dropped. She turned, intending to leave the treat on his desk, and paused when she saw him striding toward her.
“What’s this?” he asked, taking the crumpled bag and opening it.
As he surveyed what was now crumbled cookies, she said, “They may not look like anything, but they’re the best cookies ever.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said as he grasped her hand and pulled her toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
He gave her a sidelong look. “Home with you.”
“It’s not even two o’clock,” she said, in case he didn’t know.
“I can tell the time.”
“But don’t you have other appointments?” And didn’t he need time by himself? After pulling away like that in the bathroom, she expected he would be eager to lose himself in work the way she did with a book.
“I’m the fucking boss,” he snapped, sounding every inch the temperamental tycoon. “I can do what I want.”
“I know, but...”
She shut her mouth as the door swung open to reveal about a third of his staff milling around. She focused on Mo, Johan, and Sarai, who were standing nearby. All three wore shit-eating grins.
“Cancel the rest of my calls for the day. I’ll handle everything tomorrow,” Roth said curtly.
“Yes, sir,” Sarai burbled, unable to hide her glee. “Hold on. Let me do this up for you...”
Sarai stepped forward to button Jasmine’s open coat. It took the PA less than a nanosecond to realize every button was missing. Her keen gaze then zeroed in on Jasmine’s neck. Apparently, her hair wasn’t doing the best job of hiding Roth’s bites.
“Looks like you had a little mishap. Nothing that can’t be fixed,” Sarai chirped, clasping her hands together. “Enjoy the rest of your day and those cookies!”
Not for the first time, Jasmine fantasized about murdering Roth’s PA. A group of people within hearing distance looked from her and Roth to that cursed brown package in his other hand.
“I will,” Roth said, unperturbed, as he pulled her through the crowd, which automatically parted for him.
He strode down the hallway. No one called out to him the way they did to Sarai. A hushed silence preceded them, as if everyone were being alerted of his approach. There was a suspiciously large number of people in the reception area. Roth nodded to them. Jasmine slapped a big, fake smile on her face and was relieved when the elevator arrived within seconds. Mo and Johan boarded with them.
The elevator stopped twice. On the first stop, three men waiting for a ride surveyed their group and said they’d catch the next one. On the second stop, the men suddenly remembered they were going up, not down, and waved them off. Roth didn’t seem to think either interaction was odd and pressed the button to close the doors so they could be on their way.
CHAPTER 14
Heads turned as they crossed the lobby. Jasmine resisted the urge to fuss with her hair and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. This was the last time she’d ever leave the penthouse without makeup. Roth didn’t seem to care, but she didn’t want everyone to think she was a complete hag. Ugh. She needed a spa day where she got the works—hair, nails, wax...
She sucked in a breath as they left the building. Thankfully, the Bentley was waiting at the curb. She paused when Roth directed her to the front passenger seat. After a moment, she obeyed the light pressure of his hand on her back and ducked in.
“I’m driving,” Roth said curtly to Mo and Johan before he rounded the car.
The man behind the wheel leapt out as Jasmine and her guards stared at one another through the window. Mo raised a brow, silently questioning if she knew what was going on. She shook her head. She was completely at sea.
Mo, Johan, and the driver Roth had booted hustled to a familiar SUV as Roth pressed a button, so the car adjusted to his massive size.
Without one word, Roth pulled into traffic. He rarely drove, because he preferred to return calls, read, or answer emails during commutes. Did he want to tell her something he didn’t want Mo or Johan to hear? Her fingers plucked her coat as she waited.
