Boss of My Panties by S. E. Law

Author:S. E. Law [Law, S. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-05T16:00:00+00:00

13

Katie

Bruce, ever true to his word, has my new apartment set up within a couple of days.

“Here we are,” he says, his voice flat and a tad bit cold.

I cock my head in his direction, questioning him with my eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine.” He pushes on the door, and it swings back on its hinges, revealing a beautiful two-bedroom apartment.

I walk in, my heels clicking against the hardwood floors. “This is more than I expected.” Drawn to the large, floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the room, I cross over the area rug and gawk at the views. The Hollywood Hills roll against the horizon, covered in early morning haze.

Bruce stands just behind me, looking out as well, but I can tell that he isn’t really seeing what I’m seeing. He’s distant – in some place far, far away. Something’s off about him, that much is obvious.

I place my hand on his arm, but he pulls away and turns to another part of the apartment. He gestures at the room with a wave of his arm. “There are two bedrooms, so there should be plenty of space. If you do, in fact, decide to invite your mother to stay here permanently, it should be comfortable. I hope you enjoy the space.”

Again, his tone is flat. I’m confused because Meredith is just coming for a visit, although I had been planning to ask her to stay. It’s funny. I love and hate my mother at the same time. She was a terrible parent, but she’s also the only person I have I the world. So it makes sense that she’d move here to be with her only child, right?

“Bruce, is everything okay?” I ask, but he doesn’t seem to hear me, or he’s choosing to ignore me. “We’ll still get together so that we can, um, get my panties sufficiently dirty, right?”

But again, he either ignores the question, or doesn’t hear. Stalking quickly, he guides me into the kitchen. Just like the rest of the apartment, it’s fully furnished with a cherry-wood dinner table and a gold-trimmed dining set sparkling underneath a glinting chandelier.

A chandelier.

Whoa.

Never in a million years did I think I’d be living in a place with a chandelier. Most of the time, we had those cheap-o floor lamps from Target that were fire hazards, so the new lighting fixture is like a dream come true. I blink just to make sure this isn’t all a fantasy.

“Go on, open the fridge,” he prompts while leaning against the wall and adjusting his cufflink.

I hesitate. Why is this man so distant? It’s like he hates being here, but wasn’t this what we’d agreed upon? That I would move out after a month? So what’s the problem? I think about asking him again if something’s wrong, but then bite my tongue. I don’t want to come across as a worry wart because no one likes that.

I walk up to the fridge and pull it open. A bright smile spreads across my

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