Page 296 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Don’t give me that sniveling act,” she said, crossing her arms. “You’re not a child anymore, Trent.”

“You’re damn right about that. I’m a grown man, and I understand the world well enough to see you for what you are.”

“And what’s that?” she sneered.

“A failure,” I shot back. “You gave up everything for your work, and you were never truly a success, even with that. How could you be when you brought no soul to it at all? You were never interested in the actual creative process. That’s why this place stagnated under your leadership.”

She scoffed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I do. Because I’ve got a great designer on board now, and I’ve seen the vibrancy she brings to everything she touches. She’s going to help shift the face of Saunders, and she’ll do it because she genuinely enjoys the act of creating. It’s inspiring. You never had anything like that.”

“Oh, you mean Natasha?”

Some instinct in me triggered at the smug tone in her voice. That tone never meant good things.

“That’s your new little designer, isn’t it?” my mom pressed. “Yes, we’ve met. Nice girl. Well…maybe not nice. But smart, definitely. A real go-getter. Just look at all the information she was able to get for me. About Dee. And Jimmy. And the issues you’ve had with the new line.”

What? All the information she’d just tried to use against me had come from Natasha? That wasn’t possible. There was no way Natasha would have spoken to her without telling me first. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? No…I don’t think so.” A hideous smile curled across her face. “Even your oh-so-special Natasha knows the only thing that matters is the bottom line. All I had to do was dangle a little bit of money, and she couldn’t wait to share all the details.”

My heart dropped into my stomach.

“Maybe it’s time you start thinking about the kinds of people you trust,” she said. “Take it from me. People love to pick you apart when you’re sitting at the top.”

No. Natasha wouldn’t have accepted money for something like that. My mother was just trying to hurt me.

But…Natasha did need money to cover her expenses if she wanted to really devote herself to her own furniture business. It might not be as shallow a motive as a date with a football star or a spokesmodel contract—but one way or another, everyone had their price, didn’t they? Everyone went into a relationship with an idea of what they wanted out of it. Maybe I’d been fooled once again, tricked into thinking I’d finally found someone who might just want me.

My mother smirked at the look on my face. “You’re out of your depth here, Trent.” She stormed off, leaving me standing there, a sick feeling swirling in my chest.

I didn’t want to believe Natasha would sell me out. But all those details my mom brought up in the meeting had to have come from somewhere. And what other explanation was there?

21

NATASHA

Trent barged into my office like a bad storm—I’m talking hurricane-force winds. I half expected thunder and lightning to follow in his wake as he threw open the door and slammed it shut again behind him, his eyes locked onto me in a full-force glare. I frowned. This wasn’t exactly the sexy, clandestine office meeting I’d been envisioning when we’d been texting earlier.

“Trent?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”

Maybe he’d gotten bad news at the board meeting. I supposed it could be the new line. If the progress had stalled or we’d run into supply chain issues, it could mean we might not have the pieces ready for High Point. That would be a major blow to the team.

But Trent was practically trembling, his fists clenched by his sides. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. I’d never seen him so worked up over anything. Clearly, this had nothing to do with furniture. But what was it about? What could have put that look in his eyes?

I was on my feet and by his side in an instant, reaching for his hand as concern coursed through me. “What is it?” I asked, my voice breathy. “What’s wrong?”

My thoughts spiraled through the worst circumstances I could come up with. Nana Dee was at the top of that list. Trent did say she’d been looking even more run-down than usual. Hailey’s party had taken a lot out of her, and there were quite a few days this past week when she didn’t even have the energy to get dressed and took all of her meals in bed. Or maybe this had something to do with Jimmy. I’d told the kid to reach out if he needed someone to talk to other than his brother, but maybe he’d spiraled so hard that he’d skipped right past reaching out for help—landing himself in serious trouble instead. I unfurled Trent’s fist, threading our fingers together. “Say something. Please. You’re worrying me.”

“Say something,” he sneered in return, looking down at me with such sheer loathing that I froze in my tracks, my pulse hammering in my throat.

“Trent?”

“Don’t try that innocent little act with me,” he snapped as he wrenched his hand away from mine. He stomped across the office, whirling around as he reached the desk, an accusatory finger pointed in my direction. “It’s you!”

“Please lower your voice,” I said, well aware that even with the door closed, the entire design team would be able to hear him.

“I’ll be as loud as I damn well want!” he snarled, his voice echoing around the office.