Part 1My Younger Boss Still Wants In

The new CEO was making his rounds. I stood with a group of young women in the hallway, waiting to greet him.

He stopped directly in front of me, leaning in just a fraction.

"I want in."

His voice was a low, gravelly murmur. My face instantly burned.

Years ago, on a narrow mattress in the back of a rented Airstream, holding onto me with scalding skin and ragged breaths, those were the exact words he used to beg me with.

* * *

Every eye in the corridor snapped toward us.

I froze, the air leaving my lungs.

The tall, broad-shouldered man standing before me merely looked past my face, his gaze flat as he gestured to the space behind me.

"Excuse me. Do you mind?"

Reality crashed back down. I realized I was blocking half the doorway to the executive suite. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I quickly took two steps back.

Roman Wyatt—wait, no, just Roman—gave me a polite, curt nod. His expression was completely unreadable as he strode into the Chairman’s office.

I retreated to the breakroom and aggressively brewed a cup of black coffee.

Did he recognize me? Or not?

And those words...

Deliberate, or a terrifying coincidence?

I turned my head and caught my reflection in the glass cabinet doors.

Staring back at me was the blurry, unremarkable outline of a thirty-three-year-old woman. A sharp, practical bob. Minimal, lifeless makeup. Thick black-rimmed glasses. Because I’d been pulled away while auditing expense reports, I was still wearing a pair of ugly, frayed sleeve protectors over my cardigan.

I looked absolutely nothing like the wild, sun-kissed girl who had driven down a desert highway five years ago.

We were two completely entirely different people.

...It was a coincidence.

I let out a shaky breath, settling on that conclusion.