I spend the rest of the day hiding out in my office.

I’m a pussy. I know.

But I just don’t want to run into Sierra. Or Morgan. Or my mother.

That woman is like a sniffer dog when it comes to knowing there’s an issue with me.

She’s still not fully forgiven me for the whole shirt incident, so I definitely don’t want her knowing that it was Sierra’s handiwork.

Morgan wanted to see me, and when she called to schedule a meeting, I had Chrissy tell her something had come up and that I couldn’t see her until tomorrow.

Chrissy raised a brow when I told her to blow Morgan off until tomorrow, but she never questioned my motives.

It was a shitty thing to do, but I just don’t want to face her right now.

I’m all confused about wanting to fuck her. Okay, so I’m not confused about actually wanting to fuck her. I’m perplexed about how much I want to fuck her and also the fact that I have a feeling, even if I did have her, once wouldn’t be enough.

And, also, I need time to figure out how to handle the Sierra problem.

I could be overreacting; maybe there won’t be a problem at all.

Oh, who am I kidding? There’ll definitely be an issue. I saw the look in Sierra’s eyes as she left the elevator. In her mind, I’d run out on her while she slept, and I apparently never called her.

Not like I’d said I was going to. I’m pretty sure I’d had the talk with her—the one where I tell the women that I’m not in it for anything more than that night. Even though I had been hammered, the talk is as essential as wearing a condom. But, as I can hardly remember anything about that night, I can’t be a hundred percent sure of it.

And I know women, especially pissed off women, and Sierra’s definitely pissed at me.

I just don’t know to what level of pissed-off-ness.

I need to carefully handle her; otherwise, she could cause me a headache at work—namely, with my mom and Morgan—and I could really do without that.

My focus needs to be on being the best CEO, but all my time at the moment seems to be swallowed up with women.

When did my life become so complicated?

Oh, yeah, the day Morgan Stickford came back into it.

I decide to leave work early. I need to clear my head and let off some steam, so I arrange to meet Coop in Ada Park to shoot some hoops.

I fucking love it there. Coop and I have been going there to play ball since we were kids. Dom is still at work, as I should be, but he’s going to meet us for a drink later—a nonalcoholic drink. It was drinking during the week that got me into the mess I’m currently in.

I’m at the court before Coop, so I set my bag and water bottle down on the courtside and start shooting some hoops on my own.

I start dribbling the ball, and then I stop, turn, and shoot. The ball goes through the net.

I jog over and retrieve it, continuing to shoot hoops, while I wait for Coop to arrive.

I wipe my forehead with my hand. I’m starting to sweat already, and I’ve barely gotten started. It is warm though. I’m thankful that I changed into gym shorts and a wifebeater before leaving the office. Not that I’d ever play ball in my suit.

I line up to take another shot when the sound of Coop’s voice behind me stops me. “Fifty bucks says you miss.”

I glance at him over my shoulder. “Hundred, and you’re on.”

Coop drops his bag to the floor and nods, accepting the bet.

I take the shot, and it goes in.

“Lucky fucker.” Coop chuckles.

“Skilled fucker, you mean.” I laugh. “You should know never to bet against me on hoops, Coop. I never miss.” I walk over and get the ball, tossing it to Coop. “Double or nothing that you miss.”

Coop flips me off. “Say good-bye to your Franklins.”

He takes the shot, and the ball hits the hoop and bounces off.

I laugh.

“Fuck off,” Cooper says. “There’s something wrong with this ball.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, man.”

I catch the ball as he tosses it to me, and without pause, I shoot, and it goes straight through. “What were you saying about the ball?”

“You’re a dick,” he grunts.

I laugh as I get the ball and hand it over to Coop.

“So, what’s up?” he asks me as he lines up his next shot.

“What makes you think anything’s up?”

“It’s Tuesday afternoon, and you’re here with me, shooting hoops. You’re usually chained to your office desk at this time. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that something’s wrong. I’m gonna go with…Morgan.” He takes a shot and misses.

“Kind of.” I sigh. I go get the ball and pass it back to him to try again.

“I thought things were going okay with her. You said she was cool.”

“She is cool.” I pause and look at him. “But she might not be when she finds out that I boned her new assistant.”

His wide eyes dart to mine, and he laughs. “You didn’t.”

“I did. And it’s not funny, man.”

“It kinda is.” He takes a shot, and it goes in. “What happened to your no-screwing-at-work rule? She must be hot as hell to get you to break that.”

I go over to retrieve the ball. “I didn’t break the rule—technically. You know the chick I banged last week, the one who wrote on my shirt? Well, it’s her. Morgan hired her to be her new PA.”

“Holy shit.” He laughs again, louder this time. “All of the women in Chicago, and she hires her.”

“I know, right? And, now, I don’t know what to do. Should I tell Morgan or not?” I lift the ball in my hands, line up, and throw. The ball goes through the hoop.

“She’s not your girlfriend, dude,” Coop says as he goes and gets the ball. “You just work together. What you do in your private life is your business…unless…”

His brows go up, and I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking I banged Morgan.

“Jesus, man,” I tell him. “I haven’t touched Morgan, and I’m not going to.” But, fuck, I want to.

“Why not? You said she was hot.”

“She is, but I work with her. And, now, her PA is an ex-conquest. It just makes things awkward.”

“Only if you let it. You don’t plan on banging this chick…”

“Sierra.”

“You don’t plan on banging Sierra again?”

“Definitely not.”

“And she hasn’t made any noise about you and her previously bumping uglies?”

“Well, I only saw her today—”

“Dude, women don’t sit on shit. If she was going to tell Morgan that you’d banged her, she would have by now.”

“True.”

And, if she had, I would’ve had a very pissed off Morgan in my office.

“She probably doesn’t want Morgan to know as much as you don’t. I mean, who would want their new boss knowing that they screwed the other CEO a week ago?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

He lifts the ball, aims, and takes the shot. It goes in. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.” He pats my shoulder as he passes me by, going to retrieve the ball.

“Yeah,” I say, hoping to God he’s right.