Page 91 of Tempting Miles
I can picture her sitting behind her desk, all businesswoman, while reading my stupid texts. I grin at the image forming in my head.
Miles: What if we celebrate together? All the passion, none of the feelings?
I send the text and start pacing the private suite I’m prepping for paint. Her reply comes within seconds.
Penny: I feel like that’s something you should ask in person. I’m in my office.
Shiiit. This vixen wants to play. Good thing I want to play too.
Miles: I’m in one of the private suites. You can stop by anytime. I’ll be here until seven.
“Yo, Miles,” Steven, one of the newer construction workers, calls out.
“Here,” I keep patching nail holes with spackle.
“The boss is on her way.” He wiggles his brows knowingly. “Figured you might wanna wash up or look presentable or something.”
I glance at him. “And why’s that?”
He shrugs. “Shit. I don’t know. I just heard rumors.”
I take a slow step toward him. “Watch your mouth when you talk about her. She’s off-limits. Understood?”
His expression hardens. “Relax, man. I was just letting you know your fuck buddy was coming.” He snorts. “Not that I’d want her anyway. She’s old, and the only thing she’s got going for her is money.”
The second the words leave his mouth, my fist connects with his jaw.
Pain explodes through my hand, but I’d gladly break every bone in my hand before letting someone disrespect Penny.
“That’s it. You’re fired,” I growl as Steven stumbles backward, clutching his face.
“I’m gonna sue you!” he shouts.
The rest of the crew floods in just as Martin appears behind him.
“What happened?” Martin asks.
“He came in here talking shit about the boss.”
Martin grimaces. “I told him to knock it off with the comments about you and Ms. Levine.”
So this little shit’s been talking about her behind our backs.
“Get him out of here,” I snap. “Send him his check.”
The room falls silent after that. Quiet enough to hear a damn pin drop.
Then I notice everyone staring toward the entrance.
The boss is here.
Chapter 23
Penny
“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter through my clenched teeth as I pace my office.
Six weeks.
