When my boss’s rival saves me by pretending to be my date, I’m surprised but grateful.
Until he tells me what I owe him…

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From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Laurelin Paige comes a new story in her Dirty Universe series…

I’m damn good at my job.

So if I swipe my boss’s event invitations from time to time, it’s kind of like a much-earned bonus. He’ll never miss them, and I get a five-star free meal in the company of men in well-fitted suits.

But then he shows up at an award’s dinner that I’m most definitely not supposed to be at.

Lucky for me, when my boss accuses me of stealing his ticket, a hot swoony man in a tux steps in and says, “She came with me.”

Now I owe the stranger one, which is totally cool.

Until I discover the hot, swoony man is none other than Steele Sebastian, a rich man with a penchant for scandal.

And the way he wants me to pay him back?

Let’s just say that Steele Sebastian has a reputation as a dirty filthy billionaire, and I’m about to find out why.

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Here’s the thing—will Donovan fire me for using his discarded invites without his permission? No.
Will he reprimand me? Also, no.
Will he take advantage of my desire to attend these functions and put me to work at future events? No, probably not.
In fact, he’d probably pat me on the back while giving me one of his infamous smirks and tell me how to get a hold of his partners’ discarded invites as well. Donovan and I are two of a kind like that, which is the real reason he keeps me around, not my awesome PA skills. It’s not always easy to find company while walking semi-ethical lines.
But this is my thing. My thing that has nothing at all to do with who I am during office hours. It’s personal and private and sort of embarrassing, when I think about admitting it out loud, because it’s not just about getting free food. Hell’s Kitchen apartments take a fair amount of my salary, but Donovan pays well. I can afford to go out.
I just don’t really want to go eat solo in expensive restaurants.
People stare and whisper. Not that I care what they think, but it’s distracting. It’s much easier to be a solo at a business function. Maybe my plus one is involved in the actual event. Maybe they canceled, last minute. Maybe I’m there purely because of work, and no one whispers or stares or judges, and waiters don’t give me pitying comments, and strange men don’t (usually) take it as an opportunity to hit on me.
It’s a perfect hobby, as far as I’m concerned, and I’ll be damned if it’s taken away because of the hazel-eyed assface who sat at my table, who is the sole reason I’m out in the lobby at the same time Donovan is.
I have half a mind to turn around and go tear that too-hot-for-his-own-good fucker to shreds, and I would if my boss wasn’t looking at me like I’m a lifeline.
I quickly try to make up a backstory. “Uh, Donovan…I’m…” Try and fail. “Hi. You’re here.”
He waves to a security guard then points at me, which…okay. Maybe I was wrong thinking he wouldn’t be mad. He really doesn’t have to go so far as to bring security in.
But though the guard is eyeing us, he doesn’t make a move, letting Donovan approach me.
“Hey, I’m looking for Sabrina. Do you…?” Donovan trails off, and I can see that I misjudged the situation, because it’s just now that his expression becomes suspicious. “What are you doing here? Did you use my ticket?”
“No!” The denial was too obvious, but I’ve chosen my path. Now I have to walk it. “No. Of course I didn’t do that. I just. I’m, um, here—”
Suddenly, an arm slips around my waist. “She’s here with me. It’s okay, Simone. We don’t have to keep it a secret.”
I look up to see it’s none-other-than the antagonizing prick from the ballroom, and I’m both shocked and…aroused?
I mean, I’m not into being rescued. By anyone. Ever.

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