King of Wall Street: a sexy, standalone, contemporary romance by Louise Bay Read Free Book Online

nodded, hoping the fact I didn’t speak would put him off.
    “You have a nice ass, if you don’t mind me saying.”
    Really? He held up his hands when I shot him a look to kill. “No need to be snotty. I just like a nice ass.”
    I fixed my stare to my machine’s panel, wanting to punch the guy.
    “I think you better move on,” a man said from behind Jersey Shore.
    “Hey,” Jersey Shore replied. “I was giving the girl a compliment.”
    I kept my head down, not wanting to attract any more attention.
    “Her loss, right?” my rescuer replied. I recognized that voice. My brain tried to work out if it was a famous person.
    Jersey Shore moved away, and I glanced up with a smile. “Thank—”
    It was like someone was trying to take a dump over my entire life.
    Max-fucking-King stood right in front of me.
    Kill. Me. Now.
    The guy I’d come down here to escape was standing right in the middle of my gym in my apartment building. I glanced around. Jersey Shore had left, and the rower was still going. Max King was Nice Ass Guy. Life was just not fair.
    My limbs stopped working and I half tripped, half stepped off the elliptical, stumbling into the wall behind the machines. Really? The hits just kept on coming.
    “Are you okay?”
    I peeled myself off the drywall as he moved toward me.
    I nodded, unsure what I’d say if I actually managed to form words. How was this possible? My apartment was supposed to be my sanctuary from this man’s assholey behavior in the office. Now I had to worry about running into him in the corridors of my apartment building while I was drunk or not wearing makeup. Not that it mattered if he saw me without makeup or in my sweats; it would just be another reason for him to think less of me.
    “Okay, well. I guess you live in the building,” he said, then clenched his jaw and flicked his eyes to the door as if he wanted to escape.
    Fine by me.
    “Yeah, I just moved in.”
    He looked past me and pressed his fingers to his forehead as he had when reviewing my Bangladesh report. “Right.”
    And that was it. Before I could think of anything else to say, he sped out the door as if his balls were on fire.
    He had no more manners outside the office than in. He was still cold and rude.
    Despite his nice ass.
    I leaned against the wall, trying to make sense of it all. A year ago I would have thought my life had peaked at just being within a five-yard radius of Max King. Now he was not only torturing me at the office, but he’d just made my building gym a no-go area. I grabbed my water bottle and headed back to my apartment. Could my day get any worse?
    * * * * *
    After my near aneurism at running into Max in the gym, I’d taken the hottest shower possible without landing in the emergency room, blow-dried my hair, and then wrapped myself in my white silk robe, which I’d bought on sale at Barney’s. It always made me feel better. As if I had my shit together. I needed a BFF download, and I’d be back on track.
    “Hey, Grace,” I replied as she answered my call.
    “You sound like you’re about to put your head in the oven,” she said through the sound of her chewing on something.
    I wanted to ask her if I could come over and spend the night. For the rest of my lease. “Just a bad day at work.” If I told her about Max being in the building, she’d have me moved back to Brooklyn before she could say the words sublet. I’d have to settle for a general gripe session, so I explained I’d still not heard back on the Bangladesh report.
    “Have you ever thought about quitting your job? It really can’t be worth it.”
    “I can’t quit. This is my dream position. It’s what I’ve worked so hard for. I just need two years on my resume, and then I’m golden.” And who knew. I might have won him over with the revised Bangladesh report. I could get into the office tomorrow to find he’d turned over a new leaf.
    And I might be the next Beyoncé.
    “Two years is a long time to be miserable.