Maybe it was my fault for wearing something more formfitting than usual, but you’d think being recently married would put me in the off-limits category. I mean, every employee should be in that category for Mr. Ritz anyway, but his looks today were more like leers. And more than once, he stood too close to me, and I swear he looked down my shirt.
Rob is standing silently at my side, and I open my mouth to ask him if I should tell Dom about it.
But then I shut my mouth.
If I ask Rob, he’ll tell Dom. And I’m not entirely certain Dominic wouldn’t kill my boss.
In fact, I’m fairly certain Dominic would kill him.
And even though I’m beginning to believe that Mr. Ritz is a sleazeball, I’m not sure he deserves death.
The elevator opens, and I step out ahead of Rob.
I don’t know if he’s been told not to talk to me, but he was silent on the ride to and from work, so I keep up the trend.
All I want is to go upstairs, put on sweatpants, and scream into my pillow for a bit.
Since I get to the door first, I put my hand on the security screen and wait for the sound of it unlocking, then I walk through.
I make it four steps into the condo before I freeze at the same time Rob says “Oh shit” under his breath.
Because standing in my kitchen is a woman. Practically a girl since she looks younger than me. With long black hair, a crop top showing off a trim waist, and leggings so tight I’m surprised she can breathe.
I let my backpack slide off my shoulder.
Rob catches it before it can land on the ground, but I don’t care.
“Who the fuck are you?” I snap.
My feet are killing me, but I’m not about to show weakness in front of this woman, so I keep my shoes on as I stride toward her.
She stops what she’s doing, her eyes going wide as she watches me. “Um, I’m making dinner.”
I refuse to think about how delicious it smells in here.
If Dominic thinks he can hire some sexy woman to make me jealous… Well, it’s working.
“You’re home.” Dom’s voice fills the great room, and my head snaps to the side to see him walking out from the lower hallway in nothing but workout shorts.
Sweat is dripping from his body. His chest is still rising and falling in a way that says he literally just stopped working out.
And he’s letting this random woman see him like this. Practically naked.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
He runs a hand over his head, and my belly clenches. Because I remember doing that.
“Just gonna go grab a shower,” he says casually, then starts to jog up the stairs. When he reaches the top, he pauses. “Oh, I’m out of towels up here. Could one of you bring some up? I’ll leave the door open.”
Then he’s gone. Disappeared down the hallway toward our bedroom, where he’s going to leave the door open so one of us can bring it to him.
Bring it to the clear glass shower stall.
Fuck this man.
My hands flex.
Fuck him so much.
Spinning on my heel, I stomp into the kitchen.
The woman backs up quickly, trying to get away from me. But I’m not after her. She’s just here as another one of Dom’s pawns. Because he thinks we’re playing games.
I jerk open drawers, one after another, until I finally find the one with the hand towels.
I pull one out, then continue on to the pantry that I found yesterday. It’s a big, beautifully organized room, but I’m here for one thing.
Finding the appliance I need, I grab it off the shelf and storm out of the pantry.
“Uh, Val…” Rob says cautiously. “I can’t let you kill him.”
I huff as I shove the towel into the bread slot on the toaster. “I won’t plug it in.”
I think I hear the girl snicker, but I don’t stop.
My thick shoes sound heavy on the steps, and I’m practically huffing by the time I reach the top.
How dare he.
At the end of the hall, our bedroom door is open.
How fucking dare he.
When I step inside, I find he’s left the bathroom door wide open, just like he said he would.
My anger builds as I think about that other woman being the one to walk in here.
And by the time I enter the bathroom, I’m seething.
Dominic’s naked form is somewhat hidden by the steam building behind the glass, but I can see enough.
And the view is mine alone.
No one else’s.
“Here’s your fucking towel,” I snap, then throw the whole toaster over the top of the glass wall.
I make sure I don’t hit him because I don’t want to actually crack his head open, but the sound of metal meeting marble is satisfying as hell.