Romance: The Boss Read Online Free Page A

clear, I’ve never been a sucker.
    Despite the American sweetheart persona that most people typecast me as—which is truer than not—I’ve been hurt one too many times to fall for the whole sweet-talk game.
    And this guy is screaming player!
    “Look, I apologize for my friend waving you over. She was wrong to do that,” I say pointblank, determined to get rid of him as soon as possible.
    It’s not that I don’t find him attractive.
    It’s just the opposite: he’s too attractive.
    And he thinks I’m a gold digger. That’s not a good first impression.
    Besides, I’m not in the mood for being pulled by a man who is only after one thing.
    Not on my first night out in New York, anyway.
    “And why was she wrong to do that?” he asks, his eyes penetrating further into mine.
    Honestly, how does he do that?
    How does he make me want to melt and slap him all at once?
    “She likes the Green Arrow,” Brooke once again interjects. “She thinks he’s sexy.”
    What? I never said that!
    “Really? Well that’s weird,” he says puzzlingly, glancing briefly at Brooke. “Because I think your friend Lauren here is really sexy.”
    “Oh my gosh, you did not just say that.” I laugh. I knew this guy would be confident, but please.
    That’s a pick-up line if I’ve ever heard one.
    “Do you always deliver the same cheesy line or do you have them on rotation?” I ask pithily, deliberately batting my eyelashes like a doe on heat.
    “Lauren!” Brooke cries.
    Okay, maybe that came out harsher than I intended.
    But still.
    “If cheesy equates to me thinking you’re sexy, then I’m proudly guilty,” he replies, the smirk still highlighted on his lips.
    I laugh again and then watch Mike hand over the glass of whiskey at no charge.
    Rich bastard obviously has a tab. And probably only came over here because he thinks I’ll be interested in his money.
    How am I going to get rid of this guy?
     
     
     
     

Chapter Six
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
    “So you’re a Marvel fan then,” the suit perseveres, raising the glass to his mouth.
    As his arm goes up I notice the huge, diamond-studded Rolex sitting on his wrist.
    Okay…so he’s a really rich player.
    Maybe even a billionaire, judging by the number of those carats. This place really is a mecca for New York’s most affluent.
    “Yes, I prefer Marvel,” I say reluctantly, considering whether or not I should be more respectful.
    For all I know he could be a mob boss or a hit man…
    “Me too. Although I’m less Green Arrow and more of a Flash kind of guy.”
    It’s funny; he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would be into The Flash or any comic book, for that matter. He looks more like a Calvin Klein model who would read GQ and Men’s Health magazine.
    “So Lauren, can I buy you a drink?” he asks, beaming another million-dollar smile.
    “No, thank you,” I say rudely, yet am picturing what it’d be like to make out with him. Those lips look finer than silk.
    “And by no, what she really means is yes!”
    I throw Brooke another look like I want to throttle her.
    That girl does not know when to butt out.
    “Mike,” the suit calls out across the bar. “Another peacock dew droplet for the lady.”
    “No! Don’t make that,” I call louder.
    Another drink and I may actually find myself pulling a Brooke and following the suit over to some dark corner.
    “Lauren, come on,” he says smoothly, his fingers grazing over mine. “We’re all friends here. Let me buy you a drink.”
    Whoa—hold up there.
    I don’t quite know what he means by friends.
    I’m not a member of this bar.
    I’m not one of the “glamorous.”
    I have exactly $601 in my bank account and am currently unemployed.
    He’s flirting with the wrong girl.
    Besides, as soon as he finds out I’m just some drifter from Colorado, he’ll move on very quickly. I think I’ll save myself the humiliation.
    “No, I’m good.”
    “Really?”
    “Really.”
    “Well, Lauren,