Boss On A Leash: A Single Dad Billionaire Romance by Kara Hart (new books to read txt) 📕

let a brief silence wash over us. She turns to look out the window, and once again, I feel the divide.

“I’m just your teacher, but I can also be your friend,” I say. “And I want you to know that I’m not like the other girls.”

I hope that last part is true.

“I’m going to stick around,” I add.

She looks up at me with earnest eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise,” I say, hoping I’m not jumping the gun on this. It’s still such a new thing. “As long as you promise to stop picking on Xander. He’s a nice boy who just wants to be your friend. Don’t worry. I’m keeping this between us. But if you hurt him again, I’ll have to tell Dean Berman and your father.”

She seems to take this in, thinking about it as an adult might. “Okay,” she says. “I promise.”

With a little of the awkwardness out of the way, I reverse out of that lot and head toward Marc’s forest mansion. As I drive up to their garage, the outline of a tall brunette in a short, tight skirt opens the front door.

I stop the station wagon. “Yay! More friends,” Sammy says.

The woman marches forward. “Hello. Ms. Greenwald?”

I wave, getting out of the car, but I’m a little confused. “Hi. Uh. Hello. What’s this?”

Sammy runs forward. “Hi, Sandra!”

Sandra bends to hug Sammy, and I’m starting to wonder what’s going on. How do they know each other so well that they’re on a hugging basis? “My favorite little girl in the world,” she cries.

“I missed you,” Sammy shouts.

Her smile lights up the entire porch. So much love here to drive me out of my mind.

Am I jealous of the insta-love? Maybe a little.

After a few hugs, Sammy runs into the house to set down her things. The girl gives me a delicate handshake. “I’m Sandra,” she says.

“Okay. Explain to me who you are?”

The thing is, I’m not normally a possessive person. But I’m staring a hole through this woman’s face. Even if it’s completely irrational, I want her to leave. Now.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says with a pompous smirk. “I’m not here to steal your thunder.”

I feel a release. “You’re not?”

She looks back at the house and takes my hand. I nearly pull away, but a stretch limousine turns into the driveway. Oh, crap. Is this someone from Marc’s office?

My legs feel weak. “What’s going on?”

Sandra laughs and pulls me toward the vehicle. “I’m here to make you look and feel like a queen.”

Marc

I’ve run across town five different ways, and I’m still nowhere near ready for our date. On the back burner are five missed calls from Brian, hundreds of texts I refuse to even look at, and Jim makes up about half of them. They can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I’m off the books.

I’m not thinking about anything except Ali Greenwald. The evening has to be perfect because she’s perfect.

Sandra insisted on meeting her. Of course, I put my foot down, but these women have a subtle control over me. Not to mention, Sandra knows how women tick. The choice between Sandra telling Ali everything and Sandra showing Ali the world was an easy one to make. Even if she spills the beans about Momma Bear, it’s going to be okay.

Everything is going to be just fine...

Who am I kidding? I’m freaked. Everything is at stake, and it’s only solidified as I drive further away from the city. My phone lights up. It’s a local tailor, a guy I’d trust with my life. My suit is ready to pick up.

I could send someone to pick it up for me, but I’m particular. If something is wrong with the hem, I don’t trust a staffer to spot it.

“Be there in five,” I tell them.

I put the pedal to the metal, but it still takes me an hour to get through the traffic. Smashing through a yellow light, I skid to a stop, pay the parking meter, and jump through the doors.

Bruno, an older Hungarian man with the taste of a mafioso, greets me like a family member. “Mr. Wylan,” he announces. “Are you ready to look like a million bucks?”

“Can you make it a couple billion?” I ask.

He laughs with his chest, not his throat. “Please, sit down.”

He plops out a chair and goes to work, picking out my undershirt, boots, and socks. I’m usually so calm, but Bruno must sense I’ve been a little off all day because he’s not as talkative as usual. When he brings out the rest of the suit, my eyes love it. But I’m so fucking stressed about this party thing that I can’t seem to find where I left my smile.

Bruno whips me with a small cloth. “What’s the matter? You no like the suit?”

I stand in front of the mirror, adjusting my collar. Bruno always makes it right. “The suit is perfect,” I say.

“So what the matter?” he asks, English choppy.

“Eh, it’s just work crap,” I lie.

His laughter is like a bowl of potatoes. It fills you up and leaves you wanting more at the same time. “It is woman?”

I return his laughter, face turning red. “It is woman,” I say. “Beautiful woman. Heart of gold.”

He hits me again with the towel. “Why you talking to me like that?” he jokes.

“Because my brain is broken, Hugo. That’s how she makes me feel, at least.” I admit. “I’m a broken person.”

His laughter carries across the room. “You’re in love,” he says. “Get ready. Vroom, Vroom!”

As we share a last laugh, my phone vibrates again. Thinking it’s Sandra or the sitter I hired to watch Sammy, I check the screen. The call goes to voicemail, I see the name Jim.

Fan-fucking-tastic. This is just what I need.

“Sorry, Hugo,” I say. “I need to listen to this.”

He tosses the towel across his shoulders and rubs his hands together loudly. “No problem. I be in back. You call for me when ready.”

“Sure thing.”

I listen to the voicemail with distaste in my