Fighting for My Billionaire Boss Read Online Free PDF Page B

the organizer of the charity gala, asking if she has an extra ticket.
    She replies mere minutes later with, “For you? Of course, I have a ticket.”
    I gaze down at my phone. There are benefits to being a billionaire’s assistant.
    “Did he finally come to his senses?” Chanelle asks over the shoulder-height cubicle wall. Vivi, her best friend, stands beside her.
    They must have listened to the entire exchange with Brick. “No, he didn’t. He’s asking Gretchen to the gala. I’m going solo.”
    “But you’ll be leaving with Mr. Armitage.” Chanelle’s eyes gleam with respect. “He’ll realize he loves you.”
    “He doesn’t love me.” He’s likely fucking Gretchen as I speak.
    “You don’t see the way he looks at you—like he’s starving and you’re one of those red velvet cupcakes you always bring him for his birthday. We never know if he’s going to lick you all over or simply gobble you up.” Chanelle looks at Vivi. Both women laugh. “We’ve been waiting for him to act on his feelings for years.”
    “Men are clueless.” Vivi flips a lock of her blonde hair over her shoulder. “We tried to give you as much privacy as possible, thinking he’d make a move. But nope, it took a catfight to push him into action.”
    I must be clueless also because I didn’t know how my boss felt or what my co-workers had been doing. They hadn’t been excluding me. I gaze at the two women. They had been giving us privacy.
    And they believe Brick loves me. Hope unfurls in my heart. “You want him to be with me? Gretchen is very beautiful.”
    “Gretchen was a fling.” Chanelle dismisses her as a possibility. “The boss doesn’t care about her and neither do we. She isn’t one of us, not like you are.”
    They consider me to be one of them. My chest warms.
    “What are you wearing tonight?” She rests her arms on the top of the cubicle wall. “You’ll want to sex it up.”
    “Make him drool,” Vivi nods.
    “I don’t have anything to wear.” Shit. That’s a problem.
    “You don’t?” They exchange another glance, communicating without speaking. “We could help you choose a dress.”
    “You’d do that for me?” I blink, fighting to suppress my emotions.
    “Yeah.” Chanelle says this as though it’s ridiculous for me to think they wouldn’t.
    They consider me to be one of them. They want me to be with Brick. They’re willing to use their girl world expertise to help me. “I’d really like that.” My voice is choked.
    “Yes! Shopping trip!” The women cheer. More coworkers stand, looking toward us. “Who’s coming with us?”
     
    ***
     
    Almost every woman in the office joins us, grandmothers, student interns, fashion divas, their ages ranging from nineteen to sixty-four. The men watch us leave, their expressions bemused and bewildered.
    I commandeer the company limos to transport us, pushing away my guilt. Brick is traveling in style. We should also.
    We don’t shop right away. First, we get our nails done, our hair styled, our makeup applied, hiding the red scratches on my face. All the women pamper themselves also.
    We drink champagne, finishing the bottles stored in the limos. Every venue supplies us with more alcohol. We order salads for lunch, nibble on chocolate-covered strawberries. This does nothing to dampen the buzz I quickly develop.
    Chanelle and the other ladies take control of my transformation. I relax and enjoy being part of the group, following their advice, blushing at the good-natured teasing.
    They all believe Brick loves me, has loved me for years. This bolsters my confidence, reassuring me that I am doing the right thing—fighting for what I want.
    As we walk into the changing rooms at the boutique, I try not to think about Brick; about how he hasn’t called me; hasn’t returned to the office; hasn’t realized that I’m gone. He must still be with Gretchen.
    The women undress me, giggling over my lack of bra and panties.
    They know Brick fucked me.
    He