Bad Boss (Red Room Book 1) by Lana Sky

Author:Lana Sky [Sky, Lana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lana Sky
Published: 2023-06-26T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

evie

Someone, I assume is the housekeeper, ignores the “Do not disturb” notice tacked onto my door and knocks anyway. Though, to be fair, I am in a motel, and those signs seemed to be a dime a dozen when I scurried down the hall at midnight, right after checking in.

A rush of anger displaces any sense of embarrassment I might feel, however. Graeme Bellamy did this to me—sending me on a nomadic trip through Lower Manhattan. I can only remember a few bits and pieces, like the daze experienced right after waking from a nightmare. What will my life look like without adhering to the rigid daily schedule of Graeme Bellamy?

I have no idea. In a sick twist of irony, my severance package frees me from having to worry about finding a new flat. With the amount written on my parting check, I could go anywhere in the world. Though, in the interim, there isn’t much I can do without access to my bank account, credit cards, or any identification. Poor me. Bellamy probably expected me to show up at the Royal, begging for my belongings back.

Yeah, right.

I knew which part of the city wouldn’t give a damn about keeping things one hundred percent legal and rented a room using the hundred-dollar bill I kept at the bottom of my shoe. That left me with only about twenty bucks for food and transportation, but also led to step three of my foolproof plan. It took all the courage found in a ten-dollar bottle of whiskey before I gathered up the nerve to call him. His office seemed like neutral territory, and nothing… risqué could happen at seven in the morning via a phone call.

Boy, had I been wrong. With a few crass words, Graeme Bellamy had me breathless. Panting. Surrendered.

All without my having to leave the lumpy mattress or with him being even in the same room. Which brought me to my next point—how much of my location had the bastard discerned before hanging up? It wasn’t like I was going to stick around and find out.

“Please come back later,” I call at the door when the handle is tried for the tenth time during the tense moments after my disastrous phone call. The housekeeper says nothing before retreating down the hallway, and I finally gather the nerve to crawl from the thin mattress to pick up my jeans, and my dignity from the floor.

It feels strange wearing the same clothes as yesterday. I do my best to wash up using the complimentary toiletries supplied by the motel—a sample size of shampoo and toothpaste. My fingers attempt to comb through the tangle of my hair, but the moment they touch my scalp, it throbs. Oh, that’s right. Graeme Bellamy nearly ripped it out yesterday.

I fight back the memory by grabbing my canvas bag, shoving my feet into my shoes, and leaving the room. The housekeeper is nowhere in sight when I enter the hallway. The only witness to my

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