Page 35 of Dirty Boss

“And avoiding polyester.”

“That’s just a good life strategy in general.”

I laughed. By the time our meal was done, I was exhausted—but I wasn’t uncomfortable. Alba had managed to demystify some of the table manners that I’d encounter at the Noble Foundation Gala. I felt incrementally more prepared. I probably wouldn’t fit in, but I might not make a fool of myself in the first ten minutes, either.

We walked through the restaurant and stood on the street. I hailed a cab and opened the door for Alba.

“Thank you for tonight,” I said as she walked around me toward the open door.

“We have a lot of work to do,” she said. Her jewelry glinted under the streetlights between the open flaps of her long wool jacket, her breath puffing in a cloud of white. A few flakes of snow landed on her shoulders.

She looked otherworldly. Untouchable. I wanted her desperately.

Our eyes met, and I cleared my throat. “What’s next on the agenda?”

“Dancing.”

“Dancing?”

“You heard me. You’ll want to take your date onto the dance floor at least once.”

I groaned, and Alba grinned.

“You’re enjoying yourself,” I accused.

“Immensely. Goodnight.” She got into the cab, and I closed the door and watched the car drive away.

And when I closed my eyes that night, I saw Alba painted on my eyelids. Her smile. Her hair. The way she moved in that dress.

Dancing with her wouldn’t be so bad.

THIRTEEN

ALBA

My first paycheckfrom Vaughn hit my account that Friday. I lay in bed and stared at my phone screen, heart thumping.

It was more money than I’d had in my account since I’d been excommunicated—and all I’d had to do was go to dinner at one of my favorite restaurants.

When I’d walked into the crowded dining room, I’d scanned the space as my muscles twitched like they were preparing to bolt—and been relieved to see no one familiar.

And then the door to the private dining room had opened, and there he was. Obviously uncomfortable, unbearably handsome.

I’d forced myself to stay professional. He was my ticket to a bit of stability, my second chance at independence. I wouldn’t ruin it by acting on base urges.

Now I climbed out of bed and stretched my neck from side to side, groaning at the ache in my spine. Maybe if I worked for Vaughn for long enough, I’d have enough money to go see a physiotherapist.

For the first time in months, I was able to roll out my yoga mat and stretch my body. I ate a leisurely breakfast, then headed to my favorite coffee shop for a treat.

Deena wasn’t there today, but I ordered at the counter and took a seat at the same sofa where we’d met. I got up when my coffee was ready, then settled against the cushions with a book. Minute by minute, my body relaxed.

It had been a little over a week since I’d marched into Vaughn’s office, wanting to leave him a rude note, and I’d had time to quit my one remaining job, complete all my errands, clean my apartment, and do some much-needed grooming. My legs were shaved, my toes were painted, and my hair had been conditioned with an extra-hydrating mask. My entire body was exfoliated, and I’d managed to actually complete a basic skincare routine every evening for a week.

I almost felt like myself again.

After turning a page on the romcom in my hand, I curled a leg under my opposite thigh and leaned forward to grab my mug. I took a sip of the vanilla latte and hummed. Delicious. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, I felt calm and almost hopeful.

Then I heard my name. “Alba?”