Page 21 of Maid for My Billionaire Boss
“Not happening.”
“Why not?”
“I’m allergic to it.”
Her lips were strained, and I could tell she was fighting back a laugh. I was slowly winning her over. I bantered back, “You can’t be allergic to a vacation.”
She rebutted with, “That’s not a vacation.”
“It’ll be nice to get away for a couple of days.”
“I have Josiah—”
I cut her off, “My mom will watch him.”
Her eyes flickered in a way that told me she had a new idea, and that was confirmed when she asked, “Why don’t you just take your mom?”
“Well . . .” I bobbed my head back and forth, weighing the risk of what I was about to say, “I can’t . . . I sort of need to make Robert believe we aretogether.”
Her eyes snapped back at mine so fast I thought I heard a whip crack. “What?”
“So funny thing . . . I need him to trust that I’m not going to screw everything up like I did last year when I was depressed. He isn’t going to believe me that I’m not all sad over my breakup with Tonya. I wanted to try to show him I moved on with someone else . . .” Then I pushed my hand out, waving it in a no, and rushed to add, “Don’t worry. There will benothing weirdbetween us. Just show up and everything will be very professional still—”
Her head took a side angle when she cut me off, “What, wait, say that again?”
“I ah, sort of need you to pretend that we’retogether.”
Her shoulders rose slowly, and her eyes steadied, trapping mine. I waited for her excuse, but she never refuted so I confirmed in a soft voice, “So, we are good to go then?”
“No!” her head snapped back like she had been startled out of a daydream. “No, we are notgood to go!What if something bad happens? That’s too far to be away.”
“Nothing bad will happen.”
Her voice was unwavering when she stated, “I can’t.”
“You can wear your pointy shoes and stab me if you hate it.”
“Good, I’ll go get them right now.” She sidestepped, trying to pass around me again, but I was swift and snatched her forearm, holding her back.
“Come on, Atalie, we both know how this ends.”
She was an expert face contortionist because one of her eyebrows arched above the other while the other eye lowered. Her voice rolled out in a low tone, “What do you mean we both know how this ends?”
I dropped her arm, letting my own arm fall back to my side. “It means . . . That you are too nice to say no, and eventually, you’ll give in once I find your price. Tell me your price and we can save a lot of time. Is there anything you want?”
Her eyes clung to mine like they were testing me when she echoed, “Anything?”
I could tell she was thinking by the lines stacked on her forehead all the way to her widow’s peak. I had hit a nerve. “Anything you can dream of that money can buy.”
Something must have been on her mind because without pause she said, “I want access to your lawyers at your expense.”
“My lawyers?” It was such an odd request my thoughts got gnarled up like the mangroves we were about to explore. “Are you in legal trouble?”
“And you can’t ask questions about it.”
“My lawyers specialize in business law.” I quirked a brow as this was getting interesting. “Are you wanting to start a business?”
She held up her index finger and repeated, “No questions.”
