A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss (by Gregory Ellington) novel Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Madison

My cheeks burned. I took a sip of champagne to avoid responding.

“Let me give you some advice.” She leaned forward, her diamond bracelet catching the light. “Alexander likes his women sexy. Short skirts, high heels, the works. Though…” Her eyes raked over me. “Even in designer clothes, you’re not really his type. He prefers women with a certain presence.”

I stared at my half–empty glass, wishing I could disappear into the plush booth cushions.

“Women like me,” she continued, preening. “Last time we were together, he couldn’t keep his hands off me. The things that man can do…” She fanned herself with her hand. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

My grip tightened on my glass as I remembered the feel of Alexander’s hands on my thigh just minutes ago. The marks he’d left on my neck that I’d carefully covered with makeup. But I kept my expression neutral, letting her assumptions stand.

“Nothing to say?” She smirked. “I suppose that’s for the best. Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself trying to play in the big leagues.”

I gripped my glass tighter, feeling my nails dig into my palm.

“I’m going to tell you something, little girl,” she continued, her voice dripping with condescension. “Alexander is just being a gentleman by taking you out for dinner. It doesn’t make you his girl. Don’t get too giddy about this, or you’ll make yourself a

joke.”

I took another sip of champagne, letting the bubbles burn

way the sharp retorts dancing on my tongue. Getting into a catfight with Abigail Whitmore wasn’t worth the drama – or the dry cleaning bill.

But something in me snapped. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe I was just tired of being pushed around.

“Actually, Ms. Whitmore,” I kept my voice sweet as honey laced with arsenic. “I assure you I merely appreciate Mr. Knight’s kindness, and there’s nothing more than professionalism between us.” I paused delicately, swirling the champagne in my

glass.

“Though since we’re having this conversation, I distinctly remember Mr. Knight sending me to end things with you last year. Something about…” I tapped my chin thoughtfully, “Ah yes, ‘Tell her I’m not interested in pursuing anything further.‘ Those were his exact words.” I let that sink in before adding with practiced politeness, “I know this quite clearly because I’ve personally helped Mr. Knight conclude several unwanted relationships. Including yours.”

The color drained from her perfect face. Her manicured nails dug into the tablecloth.

“You’re lying,” she hissed, but uncertainty crept into her voice.

“I handle all of Mr. Knight’s personal matters.” I smiled, channeling her earlier condescension. “Including delivering

messages he’d rather not deal with himself. I have quite a collection of them, actually.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line that earlier confidence wavering. She opened her mouth to respond, but I wasn’t finished.

“And please, don’t worry about my wardrobe choices. Mr. Knight seems quite…” I paused, remembering his hands on me earlier, “satisfied with how I present myself.”

Abigail’s face flushed red, her perfectly applied blush now competing with genuine color. She grabbed her champagne glass, nearly spilling it as she took a large gulp.

The click of expensive shoes on marble announced his return. My heart skipped as Alexander’s familiar cologne reached me

before he did.

fly.

I grabbed my purse and scooted out of the booth. Alexander’s hand brushed against mine briefly–a touch that sent a jolt of

electricity through me–but he quickly withdrew it.

“Goodnight, Ms. Harper,” he said, his voice low and velvety

“Goodnight, Mr. Knight,” I replied, trying to ignore the heat that surged through me at the sound of his voice.

I turned on my heel and made my way out of the restaurant, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor.

The cool night air hit me as I stepped outside, offering a brief respite from the overwhelming tension inside.

As I walked away, my mind raced with thoughts of Alexander and Abigail. Were they going to that party together? Or worse, was he planning to take her back to his place? He’d mentioned going back to his place with me earlier, but now it seemed like Abigail might have snatched that opportunity.

Jealousy gnawed at me, twisting my stomach into knots. It was irrational, I knew. This was just an arrangement between us- he wanted a fake girlfriend, and I needed him to cover my mother’s medical bills. Nothing more, nothing less.

I stood on the sidewalk tapping my foot impatiently as I waited for a cab. The street was practically deserted, and every cab passed by already had a passenger. Great. Just great.

I pulled out my phone and opened the ride–sharing app. No cars were available. Of course, tonight of all nights.

“Come on,” I muttered, refreshing the app for the tenth time. Still nothing.

As if the universe hadn’t already kicked me enough while I was down, I heard laughter behind me. I turned to see Alexander and Abigail stepping out of the restaurant together.

Abigail hugged Alexander, her body pressing flush against his in a way that made my skin crawl.