Falling for His Boss by Rosie Praks

Author:Rosie Praks [Praks, Rosie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rosie Praks

Chapter 14

“Wow, I can’t believe we’re getting a divorce tomorrow. It’s so much fun being married to you,” Darcy said cheerfully as he plumped his pillow, getting ready for bed that night. Thankfully, that lingering feeling he had early that morning had now dissipated.

Whitney just stared at him strangely while reading her book, also in bed. Did Darcy even know what he was saying? It was fun being married to her? They weren’t even a real couple. They were—

“Darcy, what are you doing?” Whitney screeched when he began lifting the duvet, getting ready to climb into bed beside her.

“Getting into bed,” Darcy said nonchalantly, making himself comfortable.

Whitney scolded, flicking her eyes across the room, “Your bed is over there!”

Darcy craned his head over the edge of the bed to scan his sleeping quarters. Then when he saw only the floor, he turned back to Whitney and gave her a confused look. “Where? I don’t see any other bed apart from this one.”

Whitney clicked her tongue in irritation. “On the floor, Darcy. Go.”

Darcy’s whole face slumped. “But, Whitney, a hot man like me can’t sleep on the floor. What happens if news leaked out I sleep on the floor? Wouldn’t all my women shun me?”

“What happens if news leaked out you’re married to your boss? What would happen to all your women then?”

Darcy chuckled comically. “He-he, don’t worry about that. We’re getting a divorce tomorrow.”

“So?” Whitney lifted one brow in question.

Darcy grinned again. “That just makes me even hotter. Women dig divorced men.”

Whitney scoffed and shook her head. “Go. Go sleep on that floor. Now. I’m turning off the light. I want to sleep.”

“But, Whitney… the floor is hard to sleep on. Don’t you feel sorry for your PA?” Darcy whined, trying to look as sad and wounded as possible. Simply put, the expression he was trying to achieve was a wounded puppy, but the response he got wasn’t what he desired.

“Don’t make that face in front of me,” Whitney warned, eyes glaring fire. “Do you think I’ll feel sorry for you? You’re a man. So man up and stop whining like a child.”

“Sheesh! You’re a tyrant, Whitney, even outside the office.” Darcy moaned as he pulled the blanket back and got out, feet already on the floor, mumbling to himself about the unfairness of being a man and how he had to respect the female species.

“What are you mumbling about? I can hear you.”

“Nothing. I was just saying if we were married for real, I’d be dead before I turned thirty.”

“It’s good we’re not a real married couple, then. Who knows? If we were married for real, I might even hack little Johnny if you pissed me off.”

“Now, now. You can demand me to do anything, but don’t start talking about hacking little Johnny. He’s precious to me.”

Whitney rolled her eyes. “Yes, very precious, Darcy. Now, are you going to just sit there all night and moan, or do you want me to kick your ass off this bed? Because you’re starting to piss me off.

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