Boss I Love to Hate An Office Romance - Mia Kayla Page 0,40

here and I’m paying for Nadine to work extra hours for nothing.”

“No. No. No.” I shook my head back and forth, now sounding like a five-year-old Mary, as his face stayed utterly even. Of freaking course. Brad didn’t know the meaning of the word no.

He leaned in and leveled me with a stare I was sure he frequently used to negotiate with clients. “Sonia, I know this is too much to ask of you, given the amount of pride you have, but I want to do this, okay?” He placed a soft hand on my shoulder. “I want to. Because you’ve helped me on more than one occasion and with my nieces and even more so every day. I’ve asked you to do things way above your job description, and when you asked me to do this one favor for you, I thought I could spoil you a bit.” He took a step back and reached for my hand and squeezed. “So, please, just accept this. This one-time gift from me.”

I peered up at his deep brown eyes, eyes that poured out sincerity. Still, my pride refused to accept this gift. He’d already agreed to too much, but I also knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was in his locked jaw and the steadiness in his stare.

“Fine,” I conceded, practically pouting.

“Is everything okay here?” Nadine asked with a flash of a smile, approaching us.

“Yes. Everything is fine.” There was my tone again, the tone that indicated that everything was not fine, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

“Come on. This is Operation Get Your Boyfriend Back, so you’ll need ammunition.” He moved to the first rack of gowns, ignoring my lethal glare.

I felt way too much like Julia Roberts. Two women greeted me with their smiles, and one handed me another glass of wine as we passed rows and rows of ballgowns fitted and flared.

My feet did the walking, but my brain could not wrap around how much money this guy had to shut down a whole department store for his bidding.

Nadine stepped in front of me and led us down the long hall of designer dresses. “How about we start at McQueen and then head over to Oscar? Does that sound good? With your beautiful skin tone and figure, I’m sure we’ll find something wonderful.”

I smiled through clenched teeth. If I were in a better mood or more comfortable, the compliments would’ve flattered me. But I was too irritated. “Oh, how fun.” My tone turned sarcastic, ready for the “fun” to be over with.

Brad

I had found my new obsession, annoying the crap out of Sonia. Even better, making her cheeks turn crimson. It was the cutest thing, like watching a little pup growl. Her death glares were comical, as though she wanted to tear my eyes out with her fingernails. Every time Nadine turned away, Sonia would glare, nostrils flared, mouth pouty.

Fuck, she was adorable.

She’d tried on four dresses already, and as she stomped into the changing room, making it known she was not a happy camper, I laughed under my breath.

“Come out. I want to see.”

“I hate you,” she replied. “And no.”

I winked at one of the attendants holding up the next dress for Sonia to try on. She loves me, I mouthed.

“Come out, or I’m coming inside that dressing room,” I threatened.

It did not do the trick. She fired back, “Two words: sexual harassment.”

This woman. Always a snarky comment.

I shook my head as I sipped my wine. Domaine Leroy Chambertin Grand Cru. This was the good stuff from France. I swished the red wine and watched the liquid coat the bottom of my glass. “It’s only sexual harassment if you don’t want me in that dressing room.”

The blonde attendant hid a smile, and her cheeks turned pink.

“Come out. One. Two …”

Before three, Sonia emerged. My eyes widened. Well, well, well. That was an interesting dress—fluffy and full, and it reminded me of a comforter. I nearly scoffed out a rude comment but thought better of it.

Sonia was picking the dresses that my dead grandma would wear. If she wanted to outdo this new girlfriend, she needed to step it up a notch. Though the dress did accentuate her small waist, it flared out into a ballgown that looked like she was about to jump off a plane and engage the skirt as a parachute.

She trudged toward me, arms crossed over her chest, lips pouty, and eyes screaming revenge. She