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The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(41)

Author:T.L. Swan
This is beyond . . . mortifying.

Humiliation, is there a worse emotion?

I take the elevator to the top floor with my tail between my legs.

I inhale with a shaky breath, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been so nervous.

Or horrified.

I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life, and passing out at work in a netball dress is up there. But letting Elliot Miles drive me home while I was high takes the absolute cake.

What kind of fucking idiot invites her bastard boss into her messy bedroom with tampons strewn all over her bathroom and then snuggles up to him?

I pinch the bridge of my nose. This is it, the end of my career. It was nice knowing you, Miles Media. He didn’t respect me before, and he sure as hell is going to throw this in my face for all of eternity.

I’ll have to find another job? I can’t stay here . . . not now.

The elevator doors open at the top floor and I step out. Elliot’s PA looks up from her computer and smiles. I wither a little. Does she know? Has he told everyone?

Am I the laughing stock?

“Hello Courtney.” I smile awkwardly.

“Go in dear, he’s expecting you.”

I bet he is.

I fake a smile, trudge up the corridor, and knock on his door. “Come in,” his deep voice calls.

I pause and close my eyes, push the door open.

And there he sits, in all his arrogant glory.

Grey suit, white shirt, dark hair, and a jaw that would cut glass. He gives me a slow, sexy smile as he swivels on his chair. “Hello Kate.”

I clench my jaw, wanting to correct him that it’s Kathryn. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

I shrug. “Fine. I’m sorry about last night. I don’t know what happened. And I just want you to know that I am mortified and horrified and I’m so sorry you had to look after me and I don’t . . .” I look around as I try to find the words. “I am so embarrassed.”

He smiles as his eyes hold mine. “Don’t be.”

I puff air into my cheeks—great, now he’s going to get all condescending.

“You scared me,” he says as he picks up his pen.

“I apologize.” I turn my head and stare out of the window, anything to avoid his gaze.

“Kate.”

I focus on the building across the street.

“Kate.”

I drag my eyes to his.

“Take the rest of the day off and go and see your doctor please.”

I open my mouth to say something.

“And don’t give me your smart mouth,” he interrupts as he stands. “This is non-negotiable, you scared the hell out of me. I thought you were dead.”

My eyes well with tears of shame.

“What’s wrong?” he says. His voice is different. Soft, cajoling.

“Don’t,” I spit.

“This was an accident. It could have happened to anyone, why are you so defensive?” he snaps.

“I’m not. You’re the defensive one.”

“I’m not defensive.”

“Yes. You are, since the second day I met you, you’ve had an issue with me,” I splutter.

He screws up his face in a question. “What?”

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