Page 64 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession

For his employee. I amend

Instead, he'd gone straight to the hotel like a typical boss, letting his minions do all the work.

Except he wrote the program. And rewrote it when I fucked it up. And carried it halfway across the country in time for my brilliant performance.

And asked me if I needed him to stay. I know if I'd said yes, he would have.

I suddenly get the urge to talk to him. To fight with him. Something, anything.

Don’t get mushy over him. He’s not that nice, and he doesn’t like you. Who knows, it might have been that Jordan literally held a gun to his head to make him come here.

My voice of reason has a good point. Still, I take out my phone and text him. It’s never a bad thing to say thank you.

Me: Hi

After ten minutes of no reply, I send another.

Me: I just wanted to say thank you.

Again, nothing.

It’s past midnight, the man is probably asleep, exhausted after you dragged him across the country.

Fine, I’ll leave him be.

By 1 a.m., we decide to call it a night and head to our rooms. I had my team check in on my behalf and collect my access card because I was too preoccupied with trying to get my fuck up sorted out to drop off my things.

I packed lightly with only one backpack, anyway. We scan our cards on the elevator console, and I’m surprised that my room is on the penthouse floor while the others are on a different floor.

I suppose because they are interns and staff trainees and only partners and senior executives handled presentations of new launches like Dreadlite. I’m not a partner, but heck, I’ll take the penthouse.

I remember Brooke’s advice. Yeah, it’s nice to have someone else give you a figurative back rub at the end of a hard time at work.

I could kiss you right now, girl.

The elevator continues upward after the others get out until it finally opens onto a wide, carpeted hallway, which lights up as soon as I step out. There’s a door on either end of the beautifully furnished corridor, and I approach the one matching my keycard. Penthouse B.

The door opens with a soft click, leading into a large space. It’s dark, and the lights don’t automatically come on like they did in the hallway, so I search for the wall switch.

I’m such a sucker for beautiful spaces, and this one doesn’t disappoint. The sprawling living area offers a panoramic view of the L.A. skyline thanks to the wall-to-wall glass.

Hidden ambient lighting in recesses and coves gives the room a cozy feel. The furniture is in plush velvet with scattered silk and cashmere pillows strewn throughout.

There’s champagne in a bucket, and the ice inside has since melted, but the chocolates sitting next to it are in mint condition. I suppose they expected that I’d check in much earlier.

I’m too tired to indulge and head straight into one of the adjoining rooms, which I assume is either the bedroom or the office.

I push open the door and step into the dark room. And I get the shock of my life.

It’s not empty.

There’s someone there. The silhouette of a man. A large, half-naked man, sitting at the desk in front of a very dim computer screen.

Chapter 19

Bonnie

“Oh, my God, I’mso—“