Boss I Love to Hate An Office Romance - Mia Kayla Page 0,52

… it was a little see-through.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Her face lost its color.

I reached for her hand, meaning my next words more than I’d ever meant anything before. “I’m sorry. I know I was harsh that day, but I wanted you out of that room, out of his view.” My thumb brushed over the top of her fist. “And I am thankful for you and what you do every day. The reason I ask those things from you is because I’m comfortable around you, Sonia, and I trust you.” I did. There was no one in the office, other than my brothers, whom I trusted more. I was an asshole to them on the daily, but it didn’t make it right. “So, I’m sorry. And, for future requests, you have every right to deny them, and I won’t hold it against you.”

She was quiet for far too long, and I waited for what seemed like an eternity for her to say something, anything.

“I forgive you.”

Those three words had my body relaxing.

She squeezed my hand back. Then, she retracted her hand from mine and turned toward the road, shifting in her seat. “That was oddly refreshing, getting that all out in the open.” She laughed. “Now, let’s drive. We have a wedding to get to.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Who’s the bossy one now?” I turned the key in the ignition, revved up the engine, and drove.

Chapter 11

Sonia

The ride to the church was the slowest, most agonizing ride of my life. Sweat formed between my boobs, in my palms, at my temples. Not because of the awkward conversation between Brad and me. No, that was long forgotten, replaced by memories of Jeff and me.

I did not want to do this. To see him with her, kissing and holding hands and dancing, all throw-up happy, the way we had been once.

When we stopped at the front of the church, my stomach churned.

“I can’t breathe.” I inhaled deeply through my nose and exhaled a ragged breath.

I gripped the dashboard of Brad’s Porsche, closed my eyes, and dropped my chin to my chest. All I could see was darkness behind my eyelids as I clenched them shut. All I could smell was the leather new-car scent of Brad’s automobile, and all I could feel was my manicured fingernails digging into the tender part of my palms. Sweat formed behind my neck even though the air was blasting on high and my hair was up in an array of curls pinned to the top of my head. The bodice of my dress squeezed my rib cage, limiting my airflow.

“I can’t breathe,” I repeated, concentrating on getting air to fill up my lungs.

“You’re fine. You’re exaggerating. You did fine during the rehearsal.” His voice was calm and steady, opposite to my erratically beating heart.

I shook my head. This had nothing to do with the rehearsal and everything to do with Jeff. It had been months, and I knew, one look into my face, he’d know I wasn’t over him. The humiliation would kill me, like a bullet.

Breathe. Why is it so hard to breathe?

“You’re fine. You’ll do fine,” he reiterated. His hand went to the back of my neck, rubbing and massaging.

“I want to go home.” The fear of seeing Jeff suddenly choked me, tears nearly warming the backs of my eyes. All the pent-up emotions and anticipation had built up to this one day, our first after-breakup meeting.

Brad’s warm hand massaged between my shoulder blades, but it did nothing to calm my nerves. “I’ve never seen stage fright like this before. It’s one reading. You’ll do amazing, just like yesterday.”

My eyes flipped open, and I stared at him, dumbfounded. He was clueless.

“This is not about a stupid reading.” I clutched my stomach, trying to hold myself together, almost to the point of hyperventilating. “This is about seeing Jeff when I haven’t seen him in forever. Seeing him happy and in love with my replacement, Barbie two-point-oh, when this …” I motioned between us. “… is all pretend.”

Brad’s hold dropped from my shoulder to my hand. “It’s not going to be that bad. That’s why I’m here, right?” His fingers intertwined with mine, and he gave it a squeeze.

I peered up at him, wishing and hoping that his words were true, and for a tiny moment, his touch relaxed me.

“How do you know?” My words came out as a breathless whisper.

“Because I do. Trust me?” There was sincerity in his tone, one that startled me for a