Page 38 of The Heartbreaker for Hire

Mikayla wasn't actually my girlfriend. She could have a whole damn football team in there, and I wouldn't have a say.

I didn't like that thought.

Not even a little.

Logic, which had been riding shotgun most of my life, was now in the trunk with a gag over its mouth. All I could do was respond emotionally, which I hated and determined to ignore.

Sure, I knew it was only a “fake relationship” on an academic level, of course I did. But my brain had stepped out for a smoke break or something because I was responding on emotion, not rational feelings.

I knocked again, harder this time. After a few seconds the door flung open, and I was faced with an alternate reality. The scene hit me like a surprise left hook.

Mikayla stood barefoot, phone tucked between her shoulder and ear, laptop in one hand, pen in the other.

Behind her, every available surface was covered in color-coded sticky notes, index cards, and diagrams.

It looked like a serial killer's murder board.

If the serial killer had an MBA.

She barely glanced at me before turning back to her laptop.

Six people stared out from the screen. Three men, three women. All wearing the sort of expressions that suggested they hadn't experienced joy since their last quarterly earnings report.

"Diego, if St. Claire's board wants this approved, legal needs to expedite the agreement. I'm not signing off until I see the revised draft."

The man on the screen started talking.

She cut him off.

"No. That's not a solution. That's a delay with better branding."

I nearly laughed.

Then she pointed her pen at another square.

"Kira, I need Munich unblocked today. Not tomorrow. Today."

Kira nodded.