Filed to story: Watch Out, I’m The Lady Boss (Eleanor & Sebastian) Book PDF Free
By the time he relented, I could hardly breathe.
I shoved his chest away, gasping.
“Stop, Christ. Let me go or I’ll miss the bloody flight.”
“It’s still early.”
“No, it isn’t.” I waved my phone in his face.
“Look. Boarding starts in less than half an hour.”He wasn’t moved.
“The gate’s only a few minutes from here.”
“There’s still security,”Sebastian had turned curiously clingy lately.
He’d never sulked or whined; that wasn’t his style.
But these days, he lingered at breakfast, clung to me at might even after all the condoms were gone, watched me when he thought I wasn’t looking.
I could see now, clear as day, what a real proposal meant to him.
A fake marriage was a business transaction, a contract.
But this was the real deal, the kind where you trusted someone with your life, the one who’d hold the pen on your DNR if it ever came to that.
I couldn’t help but wonder if the pressure of that responsibility was what pushed me to book the Paris flight in the first place.
I peeled him off me, ducked out of the car, and went to get my suitcase from the boot.
Sebastian snatched it from me, holding my hand all the way through the sliding doors.
“You could’ve taken my jet. No need to leave so early.”
“We’ve been through this. I can’t stroll into the new office off a private flight, car and all. I haven’t even met the team yet. What would they think?”
“How long will you be gone?”
“No set date,” I said.
“Fabrizio’s been back and forth on the phone and over email. He wants me to visit their HQ. When I come home depends on what we sort out, and how fast I can finish the new work.”
“Stay away from him once you’re there. I’ll come find you when I get a chance.”I glanced at him, amused.
“Scared I’ll run off with some handsome Frenchman?”
“Terrified,” Sebastian replied, not even trying to pass it off as a joke.
“I need to keep a close eye on you.”
“Relax,” I snorted.
“Fabrizio’s only interested in business. We’re just colleagues.”He squeezed my hand tighter.
“He’s single and a man. Of course, I’m worried.”
“Don’t you trust me?” I shot back.
“I do, but seriously, watch yourself in France. Don’t overdo it. Call me every day…”
“I know, I know,” I cut him off, rolling my eyes.
“You sound like a dad sending his kid off on their first day at school.”
“I’m just worried about you. You should have let me hire you an assistant.”
“I’m working with jewellery designers, not staging a hostile takeover.”
“Now that you mention it…” Sebastian’s brow furrowed thoughtfully.
I stared at him, incredulous.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking of buying Fabrizio’s company.”
“Why not? Then I could move the HQ to Skyline and you wouldn’t have to travel.”I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or glare.
“That’s not how this works.”He didn’t seem put off.
“Look, if everything goes smoothly, I’ll be back in a week. Maybe sooner. I don’t need a babysitter. And this is my job. I don’t just show up at your office uninvited and tell you what to do, do I?”He eyed me sharply.
“You could turn up anytime. You don’t need an invitation, you’re my wife.”
“Fianc?e,” I corrected automatically.
“Not wife yet.”
“We’re married in the eyes of the law,” he reminded me. The wedding certificates are real.”
“Right. I stopped mid-step.
“Wait, if that’s the case, why are we still having the wedding?”
“Because it’s a ceremony, a way to officially announce our relationship to the world.”
“I thought we already did that when we went public on X and I***a,” I muttered.
Sebastian turned to face me, his tall frame blocking the harsh overhead light.
“Are you getting cold feet?”
“Nope,” I said quickly.
“My feet are warm, very warm.” I hooked my arm through his elbow.
“Let’s go. I’m already late.”We reached the security checkpoint.
I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.
“I know your day’s full. Go on. I’m fine.”.
As I walked away, I felt his gaze burning into my back.
The gate was nearly finished boarding by the time I cleared security.
Once settled in my seat, I was about to switch my phone to aeroplane mode when a headline popped up.
Granger Development Group again.
The boardroom drama had been dominating the feeds lately: inheritance mess, family infighting, rumours of a power grab.
Apparently, Clive Granger had been sick since last winter.
His health had taken a nosedive, and now he was desperate to hand over the company.
The biggest shock? He wasn’t passing control to Daniel, is eldest child and only son-well, turns out that last part wasn’t true; Prescott was actually Clive’s illegitimate son.
Word was, Clive planned to transfer thirty per cent of the company to Prescott.
And Prescott hadn’t wasted time,
In a matter of weeks, he’d pushed Daniel out of the management team, raking in massive profits from a new pharmaceutical venture.
I skimmed the article and swiped it away.
If Prescott and Daniel were busy shredding each other to bits, they’d have less time to bother me.
Good.
Hours later, Paris greeted me with grey skies and the thick scent of petrol and damp tarmac.
Fabrizio Marchetti met me at the gate, perfectly put together as usual: tailored suit, flawless tie, not a hair out of place.
He grabbed my luggage without asking and led me to a sleek black car waiting outside.
“I’ve arranged a house for you,” he said smoothly as we drove.
“You mentioned you don’t like hotels.”The house was two storeys, limestone fa?ade, dark green shutters, flanked by high hedges.
Inside, it was serene. Just one housekeeper, the crisp scent of lemon polish and fresh bread filling the air.
The living room was stunning: polished floors, matte black fixtures, hand-carved wooden beams, soft wool throws artfully folded over slate-grey sofas.
I glanced at Fabrizio.
“You really thought of everything. Thanks for sorting all this.”
“Not at all,” he replied with a smile.
“You’re here to push the new line forward. You need a place that keeps the flow going.”
“I’ll keep refining the sketches I sent over. Some proportions still feel off-“
“No shop talk today,” he cut in, shaking his head.
“Get some rest. I’ll take you to HQ in the morning.”
“Alright.”I videocalled Sebastian and showed him the house.
“Nice, huh?”
Sebastian let out a noncommittal sound.
“Where’s Fabrizio?”
“He just left. He picked me up at the airport, drove me here himself.” I added, “Should’ve asked him to stay for dinner.”