Page 15 of Dirty Boss

Jim patted the back of the chair and strode out. I stood, combing my fingers through my hair as I paced my office.

Arlo Noble was a big fish. After he’d sold his last company, he’d taken time to be with his family, but I’d heard he was looking for a new venture. He was the kind of guy who took big risks.

I was a big risk.

My assistant, Hillary, poked her head in. “Jim just told me about Arlo Noble. You want me to set up a meeting? Lunch at the usual place?”

I thought of Alba watching and silently judging the whole thing. “No,” I said. “Somewhere new. Somewhere nice.”

“Got it,” Hillary said. “And Billie just called; she just picked Charlotte up from school, and Charlotte’s running a low-grade fever.”

I swore softly. “I’ll work from home for the afternoon.”

My assistant nodded and checked her tablet. “Nothing else is pressing.”

I grabbed my things as Hillary went back to her desk. My heart beat faster than usual. For the first time in a long, longtime, I felt hope. I couldnotscrew this up. I stepped out of my office door, then veered left toward Hillary’s desk.

She looked up. “Yes?”

“My suit,” I said, spreading my arms. “What do you think of it?”

“What do I think of it?”

“Yeah. Be honest.”

Hillary tilted her head. She’d been with me since my contracting days, and I trusted her implicitly. Her pause told me that she was frantically trying to find a diplomatic way of telling me that my suit was awful.

“It’s…okay,” she said.

“Hillary.”

“It could be better. The shoulders…”

I arched my brows.

“It doesn’t really fit.” She cringed. “You know?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.” I tugged at the suit jacket, then straightened my tie. “Polyester,” I said, looking at her. “Is polyester a problem?”

“I mean, it’s not the most comfortable, that’s for sure.”

“Could you tell that this suit is made of polyester?”

“Yes…” she said, frowning. “Why?”

“Shit.” I groaned, then pointed at her. “Find me a tailor. Or a suit store. Or… Where do I get a good suit?”

Hillary’s shoulders eased down from her ears, and she smiled. “I’ll send you some options this afternoon.”

“Good,” I said, and marched out the door.

SEVEN

ALBA

Ms. Clean,

Please accept this tribute as a sincerest apology for my previous transgressions.