Hot Boss - Anne Marsh Page 0,58

did you do, Jack?”

I wish she hadn’t heard that. “Nothing.”

Hazel is staring at my phone. “You did something.”

“A background check.” I pulled the trigger on it at the after-party.

“On Evan?”

Well, duh. I already know all of Molly’s secrets. Hazel’s face, however, isn’t happy. It’s not her grumpy face, the one that can be fixed with cake or an apology. It’s her let’s-eviscerate-our-opponent face that I’ve only seen her wear when we lost a deal due to someone else’s underhanded dealings. Usually I just help her take down whoever’s earned The Look, so I’m not sure what to say next because I don’t feel like falling on my sword when I’m not wrong.

“I liked Evan,” she says.

I blame the cowboy boots.

“Not you, too.”

“Coming here was a mistake.” Hazel drops the sheet. She’s usually direct when she’s mad, but she doesn’t give me more words, just balls her fists by her sides, her eyebrows drawing together as she gets up. I might be misreading her since she’s mostly naked and that doesn’t help my concentration any. God, she’s gorgeous.

She glares down at me from the side of the bed. “Are we done here? I think we are.”

“Yeah.” Shit. She’s definitely mad. I should be better at not fighting after being married, but apparently I have a lot to learn.

Hazel marches across the room and bends over, rummaging in her suitcase. My dick definitely appreciates the view, but unfortunately, she promptly pulls on pants. More clothes follow, and not the kind you wear to bed or to lounge around your hotel room. Shoes, another shirt, a blazer. It seems too early in the morning—or late at night—for business casual.

“Are you going somewhere?” I sit up and look for my clothes. Chasing her naked will only get me arrested. Plus, it’s creepy.

Hazel swipes her boots from the floor. “Jack—”

“Because I think we should go back to bed.”

She yanks on a boot. “Do you remember the conversation we had when we first got together?”

“I’m sure you’ll remind me.” I’m feeling decidedly naked here. Her right boot and my jeans are tangled up together at the foot of the bed and she lobs the jeans at me. I force myself to pull them on. Why are we getting dressed when we could be naked? Together? Is she pranking me?

“We agreed that either of us could walk away at any time.” She shrugs. “I’ve decided now is a good time for me to go.”

Hazel’s gaze dissects me and I suddenly have a very good idea how those frogs felt when we went after them with a scalpel in high-school biology. Except the frogs were dead and pickled, and I’m just confused.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s really none of your business.”

“I brought you here.”

“This isn’t a date, Jack. You don’t have to walk me to my front door.”

“The one time I walked you to your door, it turned out great.”

Hazel stares at me for a minute. Then she turns around and slams the lid on the suitcase. “I had no idea you were such a dick.”

My phone buzzes again. Fuck.

“You should answer that,” Hazel says pleasantly. Way, way too pleasantly. I can almost hear her grinding her teeth. “Clearly it’s important.”

“I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

Hazel grabs her own phone, swipes angrily and holds it up so I can see the screen. I’m not sure when she took that photo, although the obvious answer is last night. Molly and I lean into each other, talking. I’m sporting a fierce look on my face and I’m half-turned, putting my upper body between Molly and the rest of the world.

“Tell me a story. What do you imagine is happening here?”

“We’re having a conversation, not sex.”

“Mmm,” she says. “That’s not the story I see.”

I turn off my phone and toss it on the nightstand. “Then explain it to me, Hazel. What do you see that I don’t?”

I don’t know what I expect her to say, mostly because there seems to a thousand hyperactive butterflies roosting in my stomach. I don’t get anxious, so it makes no sense that waiting for Hazel’s answer is killing me. I shove off the bed and pace toward her.

She looks at me and then at her suitcase. “Fuck it. I’m rich. I’ll buy new stuff.”

“That doesn’t sound good, Hazel.”

“I see two people in that picture, Jack. You and Molly. I don’t see us. You’re smart—you figure it out.” She taps the phone. “We said we’d be together until we both found someone for real, but

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