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Chapter 1

There isn't a trap door in the floor of his apartment that's going to open up and drop me out of sight. I only have one choice. I have to turn around. I need to pretend that I don't know him even though last night I literally sat on his gorgeous face and had more orgasms than I can remember.

"Jess." Cassandra's tone is more insistent now. "Turn around."

I place the photograph of Nathan back onto the fireplace mantel before adjusting the collar of the chef's jacket that Cassandra gave me earlier. "I want you to look professional for this, Jess. It's a very special occasion." The words she spoke just a few hours ago ringing in my ears with more irony than she could have ever imagined. How is it even possible that the man I've been sleeping with is dating my boss? There are how many millions of people in Manhattan and I have to crawl into the bed of the one man I desperately should avoid? Idiot, Jessica. You are a grade A idiot.

I feel as though I'm moving in slow motion as I twist on my heel and spin around. I can't look at him. I'll just stare at her.

"Jess." She's motioning towards me with her hand. "Come over here."

My legs feel as though they're weighted with an extra ten pounds each as I drag my black flats across the hardwood floor.

"This is Jess." She wraps her arm around my shoulder pulling me into her body. "She's my chef."

"Jessica," Nathan says my name. The name he calls me when he's deep inside of me and I'm screaming out in pleasure. I wish I could pull my hands to my ears and block out his voice. I wish I could quit this job on the spot and tell Cassandra that her boyfriend spends every night at a club looking for someone to fuck.

"She likes to be called Jess." Her arm drops from me and she twirls around so she's facing him directly.

"Jessica," he ignores her correction." You're her chef?" The emphasis on the word her barrels through me like a freight train. Her, the woman he's dating. The woman he sees outside the hotel.

"Yes." Cassandra gives him a nod. "She's new. I wanted to tell you about her but..." her voice trails when the shrill sound of a phone ringing bites through the air. She fishes in her purse before pulling it out. "It's work. I need to take it."

"Go in the kitchen. It's private." He exhales in a rush.

"I'll be right back." She taps him lightly on the chest before she rushes down the hallway, chattering into the phone.

"Happy birthday," I drawl once I'm certain she's out of earshot. "You're how old now, thirty-one? That's how many in disgusting, cheating asshole years?"

"Stop it," he says huskily. "I'm not cheating on anyone."

"Your girlfriend would disagree with that." I shoot back. Does he seriously think I'm an idiot? Maybe he hasn't realized I have a brain since we haven't spent more than twenty minutes in total talking since we met.

"Cassie's not my girlfriend." His tone is clipped. "You don't know what you're talking about."

I squeeze my eyes shut at the mention of the endearment. Cassie. He calls her Cassie. Of course he does. She's his girlfriend. She's not one of the random women he fucks in his hotel suite. She's not like me.

"You're a fucking liar," I seethe through clenched teeth. "She's a good person and you're a cheating bastard."

"Shut up," he hisses at me. "Listen to me..."

"I should tell her." I turn on my heel, indignation racing through me. "I'm going to tell her what an asshole you really are."

"You're not going anywhere," he growls as he pulls on my elbow.

I spin back around, my hand slapping him so hard across the face that his head snaps to the left.

"What the fuck?" His hand darts to his cheek. "How the hell did you end up inside my apartment with her?"

"Fuck you." I bite back in a hushed tone. "Maybe it's because there's only six degrees of separation between your cock and every woman in Manhattan."

"What?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "There are more places to go to find a woman to fuck than just that club. You met her at that club, you met me there. You need to find a new place to pick up women." I feel sick to my stomach. I wish I hadn't stepped foot in that club.

"This is so fucked up," he says, his voice barely audible. "You've got it all wrong."

"Your girlfriend is my boss." I point out. "It's pretty simple."

"It's more complicated than that."

"I don't care what it is." I cross my arms over my chest. "All I care about is my job. I need to get out of this with my job." I had to. One lesson my past had taught me was that if you're the bearer of bad news, you always end up having to pay for it, in one way or another. If Cassandra found out from me that Nathan was a cheating son-of-a-bitch, she'd hate me as much as she'd hate him.

"What about us?" He grabs me by my shoulders, shaking me slightly.

I shove back away from him so harshly I almost lose my footing. He's so much more imposing when I'm not wearing heels. He's almost an entire foot taller than me. "Us?" I sneer." There is no us. I don't care about you. I care about my job. I need this job." I desperately need the job. Cassandra pays me so well that I can cover my expenses and save for culinary school.

"That was a waste of time." Cassandra's voice calls as she rounds the corner from the kitchen. "Jess, bring that box in here, now."

I move to pick up the heavy cardboard box I placed on the floor just a few minutes ago when we arrived. I squat down and pull it into my shaking arms. I have to calm down. I have to get through the next few hours. After tonight, I never have to see him again.

"What's this?" Nathan reaches to take it from me, scooping it into his left arm.

"We're cooking you dinner." The delight in her voice is grating on me. She's so happy. Why shouldn't she be? She met him at the same club as I did and she's his girlfriend. She has a key to his apartment and knows his birth date. She probably sleeps in his arms and hears stories about his day. She's oblivious to what he's doing at night. She has to be. There's no way she knows that he has a hotel suite that he uses just for sex.

"No. I don't want that," he says hoarsely. "You shouldn't have planned this."

"It's your birthday," she whines. "Your secretary said you'd be in court until six. It was supposed to be a surprise."

I feel his eyes bore into me but I don't shift my gaze from Cassandra's face. If I bolt right now and tell her I'm done, Rebecca will likely face the consequences of that too. My roommate needs her job as much as I need mine.

"Jessica." His voice is husky and strained. "I need a minute with Cassandra."

"For what?" She narrows her eyes at him. It's the same look she gives to Allie and Aaron when they're disobeying her.

"In the kitchen." He gestures over my head. "Now."

"No," she snaps. "Whatever you want to say, here is fine. Make it quick. Our guests are coming in a couple of hours and Jess needs to start cooking."

Shaking his head he starts down the hallway, the box still under his left arm. "You had no right coming here."

She pushes her hand into his chest stopping him in his tracks. "I have every right."


Tags: Deborah Bladon Pulse Romance