Rivals: An enemies to lovers romance by ML Preston

Author:ML Preston [Preston, ML]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

I slept for most of Sunday. Hell, I didn’t even get in until nine AM. Needless to say, my mother was pissed. Not that she was worried, but I didn’t call. Lesson learned: you’re never too old to not call your parents. The fact I even made it home should be commended. Lucas wanted me to stay and spend the entire day with him, and by my second orgasm of the early morning, he nearly had me convinced. Mother’s text made the final decision. After a short nap, I took her to go find a nice dress to wear for her nuptials this Friday, then we had lunch before going back home where I slept until today. I didn’t even bother to answer my messages from Lucas. His dad actually called my mom and asked if I was feeling okay ’cause Lucas wouldn’t get out of bed. He thought maybe it was the food from brunch or something going around at work.

I arrive at the office with a different walk than usual. Not the I-spent-my-weekend-getting-my-back-broke-like-records walk, but a new outlook on life type of vibe.

“Good morning,” I say to everyone I pass.

“You sure have a lively step this morning, Ms. Greene,” the lobby receptionist says.

“Oh, yes. My mom is in town, and I love when she’s here.”

“Oh, really. I thought it had to do with those deep-purple hickeys on your neck.”

The sudden stripe of horror hits me, and I fast pace to the elevator so I can get to my office and see what I missed. I was careful to put ice on them this morning after my shower and use my water-based concealer to hide the evidence.

“Ms. Greene, Mr. Armstrong—” Tanya begins to speak as I approach her desk.

“Not now, Tanya. I need to get something done really quick.” I flash by her and run into my office, closing and locking the door. I shut the blinds and look at my neck. To help aid in my disguise, I wear a semi-high collared, sleeveless, thin sweater to help hide the passion mark from this weekend. Seeing how this isn’t helping, I switch to a button-down blue shirt and use a silk scarf to help hide the evidence. I take out the emergency concealer usually reserved for surprise presentations after I’ve been up all night binging on TV and begin applying. This solidifies my point that having extra wardrobe in your office is a must. A knock at my door gives me even more reason to panic.

“Yes?” I calmly call out.

“It’s Armstrong. Why is your door locked? Are you okay?”

I don’t have time to do much blending, so I hurry and find my little nautical scarf I use on my hair and fashion a simple accessory before opening the door.

“Yes, Mr. Armstrong?”

He raises one eyebrow as he looks at me. “Going sailing later?” he quizzically and comically implies.

I do a little nervous giggle and offer up a phony excuse. “Oh, this? Pssh, I spilt um, coffee on my shirt and tried to clean it but made it worse.

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