Chapter 3 Three

"Another shot," I barked at the bartender.

"Sarah," Mia warned, eyeing me from across the small, round table. "That's your fourth."

"And I hope the fifth kills the part of my brain that still remembers this godforsaken day," I muttered, grabbing the lime wedge and tossing back the tequila like it was water. My throat burned, my eyes watered, and I slapped the counter. "God, that's disgusting. Give me another."

Mia sighed, sliding into the booth beside me. "You're going to be hugging a toilet by midnight."

"Good. Maybe I can flush myself down it and escape this cursed dimension."

The bartender raised a brow but poured another round anyway.

Mia took a slow sip of her cocktail and finally asked, "Okay. Spill. What the hell happened?"

I turned toward her, hands trembling, eyes wild, and hissed, "You remember that man I kissed at the club?"

Mia blinked. "The hot stranger? Matteo the Lap God? Obviously."

"Yeah. Him." I leaned in dramatically. "He's my boss."

Her drink nearly flew out of her mouth. "What?"

"You heard me."

"You're kidding."

"I'm dead serious." I pounded my next shot and winced. "His name is Matteo Russo. He owns the company. As the CEO of Thorne Enterprises."

Mia froze. "Oh. My. God."

"Yeah. Imagine walking into your dream job, hoping to forget a drunken mistake, only to find that exact mistake sitting behind a mahogany desk in a five-thousand-dollar suit."

"Oh my God," she said again, this time whispering it like a prayer.

"And he pretended he didn't even remember me! The audacity! Just looked me up and down with those smug eyes and said, 'Miss Hart, I presume?' like he didn't have his hands all over me forty-eight hours ago."

Mia clapped a hand over her mouth, but a laugh burst through anyway. "Shut up. He didn't."

"He did! And then get this he assigns me as his assistant. His assistant, Mia. He made me fetch his coffee, staple his files, and redo proposals because the font wasn't right. Said my skirt was inappropriate and my perfume was 'offensive.' Then he stapled me to my desk with sarcasm and thinly veiled insults for eight straight hours."

Mia was wheezing with laughter now, which only made my blood boil hotter.

"This is your fault," I snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at her face.

"Excuse me?"

"You left me alone that night! You watched me straddle a stranger like some barroom stripper and said nothing! You encouraged it!"

"I didn't encourage it!"

"You did! You said, and I quote, 'He was hot. You were hot. The chemistry was off the charts.'"

"Well, it was!"

"That's not the point!"

Mia giggled again. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! But come on, Sarah. You had fun. Admit it."

"I made out with my boss in public," I hissed. "My boss. In. A. Club. I tongue-mugged a billionaire. Do you know how mortifying that is?"

"You didn't know he was your boss then," she offered helpfully.

"Yeah, but he knew who he was. He knew he was the damn CEO when he let me grind on him like a deranged maniac. He could've stopped me. He didn't."

Mia blinked, then gave a sly smile. "You think he was into it?"

"Oh, he was definitely into it," I muttered. "But that's not the point. He's using it against me now. It's like some kind of sick game to him. He pretends nothing happened, but then he says little things that make me want to stab him with a letter opener."

"Like what?"

I sat up straighter, grabbing another shot and downing it with flair. "He looked at me this morning and said, 'Let's keep it professional.' With this little smirk, like we both knew there's nothing professional about what happened."

"Oh my God," Mia laughed. "He's messing with you."

"I know he is!"

Mia leaned forward, grinning like the gossip goblin she was. "Okay but... be honest. Do you still think he's hot?"

I stared at her. "I hate you."

"You didn't say no."

"Because saying no would be a lie." I groaned and slammed my head on the table. "Of course, I still think he's hot. That's the worst part. He's insufferable, condescending, emotionally constipated but somehow that just makes him hotter."

Mia cackled. "You're doomed."

"I am doomed," I agreed, muffled by the table surface. "I'm going to lose this job. Or snap and end up in jail. Or worse fall for him like some tragic office romance cliché."

Mia nudged me with her elbow. "Okay, but, silver lining? At least your life's not boring anymore."

I glared at her. "I hope your next date spills ketchup on your white dress."

"That's just mean."

"You're mean. You threw me to the wolves."

"They weren't wolves," she said, picking up her glass. "They were tall, dark, and probably loaded."

"Loaded with emotional issues," I snapped.

Mia grinned. "Perfect match for you, then."

I groaned and leaned back in my seat, letting the tequila settle in my veins like lava. Outside, the city lights blurred into warm golds and reds, and the buzz of the bar around us became a comforting hum. It wasn't enough to erase the memory of Matteo's smirk, but at least it dulled the sting.

"I seriously thought I could fake my way through this job," I said after a moment. "Keep my head down, work hard, rebuild my life after the whole Jacob mess. But of course, I had to ruin it before it even started."

"Hey." Mia's voice softened. "You didn't ruin anything. One bad day doesn't define your whole future. You're smart. You're stubborn. And you're terrifying when you're angry. You'll survive this."

I snorted. "Terrifying, huh?"

"You should've seen your face when you said 'smug bastard' under your breath. I'm surprised Matteo didn't flinch."

"Oh, he heard me. He just enjoyed it."

Mia laughed. "Well, you know what they say if you can't quit, torment him until he does."

I raised my glass. "Cheers to that."

We clinked our drinks and tossed back the last round. The tequila burned less this time, or maybe I was just numb. Either way, it felt good. Cathartic.

I slumped back into the booth with a sigh. "If I make it through this week without throwing coffee in his face, I deserve a medal."

"You deserve a raise."

"I deserve a restraining order from HR."

Mia giggled again. "Honestly, I kind of ship it."

I shot her a look. "Mia."

"I'm just saying! It's got all the makings of a forbidden office romance. Hot boss, accidental hookup, emotional repression, power imbalance chef's kiss."

"I swear to God," I muttered, grabbing my purse. "If I ever marry that man, you're banned from the wedding."

"Deal. But only if I get to be the maid of honor at the engagement announcement."

"You're the worst friend I've ever had."

"Maybe," she said smugly, "but I got you a job. And a hot boss."

"Both of which are currently ruining my life."

"You're welcome."