Karma's POV

The moment she opened the door and we came face-to-face with Theo, I froze.

"What exactly were you two doing in there?" he asked, his eyes moving between the two of us. A recap of all he could have heard flashed through my head, and I felt a burst of heat spread along my skin.

I chanced a look over to Miss Raudenfeld as she did the same, then turned back to Theo and shook my head. "Nothing, we needed to talk. That's all." I tried to play it off, but knew the tremor in my voice gave me away.

"Oh, I heard something in there, but it certainly wasn't talking," he said, smirking.

"Don't be ridiculous, Theo. We were discussing an issue at work," she said, trying to move around him.

"In the bathroom?" he asked.

"Yes. You sent me up here to find her. This is where I found her."

He shifted in front of her, blocking her path. "I'm a cop Amy, which means I can smell bullshit from a mile radius. We both know you don't discuss anything, you fight. So cut the crap. Are you two dating or something?"

"No!" We both yelled at once, our eyes meeting for a brief moment before quickly darting away.

"So. . . you're just fucking then," he said, and it seemed that neither of us could find the words to reply. The tension in that hallway was so heavy I briefly considered how much damage a jump from a third-story window could do. "For how long?"

"Theo . . ." she began, shaking her head, and for once I actually felt bad about her discomfort. I'd never seen her look like this before. It was as if all this time it really hadn't occurred to her that there could be consequences outside of our own turmoil.

"How long, Amy? Karma?" he said, looking between us.

"I—we just—" I started, but just what? How could I explain any of this? "We—"

"We made a mistake. It was a mistake." Her voice cut through my thoughts and I looked over to her in shock. Ouch, that surprisingly bothers me. I know she was right but hearing her say that actually…hurt.

I couldn't tear my eyes away as he began to speak. "Mistake or not, it needs to stop now. What if I'd been Farrah? And Amy, you're her boss! Have you forgotten that?" He exhaled deeply. "Look, you two are adults, and I don't know what's going on here, but whatever you do, do not let Hank find out."

"I won't tell Lauren so don't worry about it, she'll cut your head off Amy if she finds out and I don't want to arrest my own wife for murder " Theo said in a serious tone. Amy mumbled a faint "Thanks". She looked very embarrased of the whole situation.

A wave of nausea hit me at the idea of Hank or Lauren ever finding out about this, at how disappointed they'd be. I couldn't bear that. "That won't be a problem," I said, purposefully avoiding Amy's gaze. "I intend to learn from my mistake. Excuse me."

I moved past them and toward the stairs, anger and hurt settling like a lead weight deep in my stomach. The strength of my work ethic and motivation had always buoyed me through harder times in my life: breakups, the death of my mother, rough patches with friendships. My value as an employee at RMG was now tinged with self-doubt. Was I making her see me differently because I was fucking her? Now that she'd seemed to register—finally—that if others knew about us it could be bad for her, would she start to question my judgment more globally?

I was smarter than this. It was time I started acting like it.

I composed myself before stepping outside and returning to my seat beside Liam.

Everything all right?" he asked.

I turned my head, letting myself look at him for a moment. He was really quite cute: neatly combed dark brown hair, a kind face, and the most beautiful caramel eyes I'd ever seen. He was everything I should be looking for.

My gaze shot up a moment later as Miss Raudenfeld returned to the table with Theo, but I quickly looked away.

"Yeah, I'm just not feeling well," I said, turning back to Joel. "I think I might need to call it a night."

"Here," he said, standing to pull out my chair. "I'll walk you to your car."

I said my good-byes, feeling the unfamiliar shape of Joel's palm on the small of my back as we walked into the house. Once in the driveway, he gave me a shy smile and took my hand. "It was really nice meeting you, Karma. I'd like to call you sometime and maybe have that lunch."

"Let me see your phone," I said. Part of me felt bad for doing this, having been with Amy upstairs not even twenty minutes ago, and now giving my number to Liam, but it was time to move past this, and a lunch date with a nice guy seemed like a good place to start.

His smile widened as I handed him his phone, and he gave me his card in return. Taking my hand, he lifted it to his lips. "I'll call you Monday, then. Hopefully your flowers aren't completely wilted."

"It's the thought that counts," I said, smiling. "Thank you."

He looked so sincere, so happy at the simple possibility of seeing me again, and it occurred to me that I should be swooning, or giddy. I really just wanted to barf.

"I should go."

Liam nodded, opening my car door for me. "Of course. I hope you feel better. Drive carefully, and good night, Karma."

"Good night, Liam."

He closed my door and I started the engine, my eyes straight ahead as I drove away from my boss' family's house.

The next morning at yoga I considered spilling my guts to Shane. I'd felt reasonably certain I could handle things on my own, but after an entire night of staring at the ceiling and completely freaking out, I realized I needed to confide in someone.

There was Zita, and more than anyone Zita would understand how maddening my hot boss could be. But she also worked for Lauren and I didn't want to put her in an awkward position by asking her to keep such a huge secret. These were the times I really wished my mom were still alive. Just thinking about her brought a wrenching pain to my chest and tears to my eyes.

Could I tell Shane? I had to admit I was terrified of what she would think of me. But more than that, I was terrified of saying the words to someone out loud.

"Okay, you keep looking at me," he said. "Either you have something on your mind or I'm the embarrassing and gross kind of sweaty."

I tried to tell him nothing, I tried to brush it off and let him think he was being absurd. But I couldn't. The weight and the pressure of the last few weeks came crashing down and before I could control it, my chin started to tremble and I began bawling like a baby.

"That's what I thought. Come on." He offered me her hand and helped me up and, gathering our belongings on the way, led me out the door.

Twenty minutes, two mimosas, and one emotional breakdown later, I was watching Shane's shocked expression at a table in our favorite restaurant. I told her everything: the panty ripping, my liking the panty ripping, the various locations, the mid-make-out-session-I-hate-yous, Theo catching us, my guilt over feeling like I was betraying Hank, Liam and myself, Miss Raudenfeld's cavewoman declarations, and finally, my fear that I was in the most unhealthy relationship in the history of the world, with no power at all.

When I looked up to meet his gaze, I winced; he looked like he'd just watched a car wreck.

"Okay, let me make sure I've got this right"

I nodded waiting for him to continue.

"You're sleeping with your boss."

I cringed slightly. "Well, technically not—"

He threw his hand up to stop me from finishing. "Yeah, yeah. I got that. And this is the same boss you oh-so-lovingly refer to as 'Beautiful Bitch'?"

I sighed heavily and nodded again.

"But you hate her."

"Correct," I mumbled, my eyes shifting away from him. "Hate. Very big hate."

"You don't want to be with her, but you can't stay away."

"God, it sounds even worse to hear someone else say it," I groaned as I buried my face in my hands. "I sound ridiculous."

"But the sexytimes? Are good," he said with a touch of humor in her voice.

"Good doesn't even come close to describing it, Shane. Phenomenal, intense, mind-blowing, multiple-orgasmingly amazing doesn't come close to describing it."

"Is 'orgasmingly' even a word?"

I rubbed my face with my hands and sighed again. "Shut up."

"Well," he replied thoughtfully, clearing her throat "I guess not getting laid wasn't her problem after all…"

I let my head fall to my arms on the table. "No. No, it most definitely wasn't." I looked up slightly at the sound of her muffled laughter. "Shane! This is not funny!"

"I beg to differ. Even you have to see how insane this is. I mean, of all the people I've ever known, you're the last person I would have ever imagined ending up in this situation. You've always been so serious, with each and every step of your life so planned out. Come on, you've only had a few real boyfriends and girlfriends, all of whom you'd been with for what everyone considered a really silly amount of time before you slept with them. This woman must be something else."

"I know there's nothing wrong with having a purely sexual relationship with someone—I can handle that. And I know that I can at times be overly controlled, but it's the fact that I feel I have no control over myself when I'm with her that scares the shit out of me. I mean, I don't even like her, and yet . . . I keep going back for more, is really infuriating."

Shane took a sip of his mimosa, and I could practically see the wheels turning as he considered everything I'd told him. "What matters to you?"

I looked up to him, understanding. "My job. My life after this. My sense of value as an employee. Knowing my contribution matters.

"Can you feel good about those things and still fuck her?"

I shrugged, unable to actually untangle my thoughts on the matter. "I don't know. If I felt like everything was separate, maybe. But our only interactions are at work. There isn't any instance where it isn't about both work and sex."

"Then you have to find a way to stop doing this. You need to keep your distance."

"It's not that simple," I retorted, shaking my head and beginning to ramble. "I work for her. It's not as if all instances of being alone with her are easily avoidable. The number of times I've sworn off sex with her and then had sex with her hours later is ridiculous. And on top of that, we have a conference to attend in two weeks. Same hotel, same general vicinity at all times. Beds!"

"Karma, what has gotten into you?" Shane asked in an astonished tone "Do you want this to continue?"

"No! Of course not!"

He eyed me skeptically.

"I mean. . . it's just that I'm different with her. Like, I want things I've never wanted before, and maybe I should let myself want those things. I just wish it was someone else making me wants them, someone nice, like Liam for instance. The lady boss is not very nice."

"Lady Boss makes you want what? Like spankings and stuff?" Shane responded with a chuckle, but when I looked away I heard him gasp. "Oh my God, did she spank you?"

My wide eyes shot back to her. "A little louder, Shane. I don't think the guy in the back heard you." As soon as I was sure no one was looking, I smoothed loose tendrils of hair back from my forehead. "Look, I know I need to stop this but I—"

I paused as I felt goose bumps rise along my skin. My breath caught in my throat and I turned slowly to look at the door. It was her, casual and dressed down in a black T-shirt and skinny jeans, combat boots and hair even sexier than usual. I turned back around to face Shane, feeling all the blood drain from my face.

"Karma, what's wrong? You look like you've just seen a ghost," Shane said, reaching across the table to touch my arm.

I swallowed hard in an attempt to find my voice, and then looked at him. "Do you see that woman next to the door? The tall, blonde and good-looking one?" He raised his head slightly to look and I kicked him under the table. "Don't make yourself obvious! That is my boss."

Shane's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Holy shit," he gasped, and shook his head as he looked her up and down. "You weren't kidding, Karma. That is one beautiful bitch. I think I became straight for a minute. I wouldn't kick her out of my bed. Or car. Or dressing room. Or elevator, or—"

Shane! You're really not being helpful here!"

"Who's the blonde?" he asked, motioning toward them. I turned back to see Miss Raudenfeld being led to a table with a tall, leggy blonde, her hand on the small of her back. A sharp stab of jealousy pressed into my chest.

"What a slut," I hissed. "After her behavior last night? She has got to be kidding me." Just as he was about to respond, Shane's phone rang and he reached for it from his pocket. The "Hey baby!" greeting told me it was his fiancé, and this would take awhile.

I glanced again at Miss Raudenfeld, talking and laughing with the blonde. I couldn't tear my eyes away. She was even more attractive in a relaxed setting: smiling, eyes dancing when she laughed. Bitch! As if she heard my thoughts, she lifted her head and our eyes locked. I clenched my jaw and turned away, tossing my napkin to the table. I had to get out of here. "I'll be right back, Shane."

He nodded and waved absently, never pausing his conversation. Standing up, I quickly made my way past her table making sure to avoid her eyes. I had just turned the corner and spotted the safety of the ladies' room door when I felt a strong hand on my forearm. "Wait."

That voice sent a jolt through me.

Okay, Karma, you can do this. Just turn around and look at her and tell her to fuck off. She's an asshole who called you a mistake last night and shows up with some blond bimbo today.

Straightening my shoulders, I turned to face her. Shit. She looked even better up close. "What the hell do you want?" I spat at her, pulling my arm free from her grasp. Without the benefit of my heels I felt like she towered over me. Looking up at her face, I could see faint circles under her eyes. She looked tired. Well, good. If her nights were half as bad as mine, I was happy.

Running her hands through her hair, she glanced around uncomfortably. "I wanted to talk to you. To explain about last night."

"What's there to explain?" I asked, nodding my head toward the dining room and the blonde still sitting at her table. My chest twisted tightly, painfully. "Change of scenery. I get it. I'm actually glad to see you here like this—it helps remind me why this thing between us is a terrible idea. I don't want to be indirectly fucking all of your other women."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked, looking back at me. "Are you talking about Emily?"

"Is that her name? Well, you and Emily have a lovely meal, Miss Raudenfeld." I turned to leave but was once again stopped when she grabbed my arm. "Let. Go."

"Why would you even care?"

Our argument had begun to attract attention from the staff passing through to the kitchen. After a quick glance around, she pulled me into the ladies' room and locked the door.

Fantastic, another bathroom.

I shoved her away when she stepped closer. "What do you think you're doing? And what do you mean, why would I care? You fucked me last night, told me all about how I couldn't possibly want to go out with Liam, and now you're here with someone else! I let myself forget you're a womanizer. Your behavior is completely expected—I'm pissed at myself." I was so angry my nails were practically cutting into the palms of my hands.

"You think I'm here on a date?" She exhaled heavily, shaking her head. "This is unbelievable. Emily is just a friend. She runs a charitable organization that Raudenfeld Media supports. That's all. I was supposed to meet her Monday to sign some papers but she had a last-minute flight change and is leaving the country this afternoon. I haven't been with anyone else since the con—" She paused to rethink her words. "Since we first . . . you know . . ." She finished, motioning vaguely between us.

What?

We stood there, staring at each other as I tried to let her words seep in. She hadn't slept with anyone else. Was that even possible? I knew for a fact that she was a player. I'd personally witnessed her ever-expanding collection of arm candy at corporate events, not to mention the stories swimming around the building. And even if what she was saying was true, it didn't change the fact that she was still my boss, and this whole thing was seriously wrong.

"All those women throwing themselves at you and you haven't nailed even one? Aw, I'm touched." I turned for the door.

"It's not that difficult to believe," she growled, and I could feel her eyes burning into my back.

"You know what, it doesn't matter. It was just a mistake, right?"

"Look, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." She moved closer and her scent—like honey and sage—washed over me. I suddenly felt trapped, like there wasn't enough oxygen in the tiny room. I needed to get out of here, now. What had Shane said less than five minutes ago? Don't be alone with her? Good advice. I happened to like this particular pair of panties and didn't really want to see them in tatters in her pocket.

Okay, that was a lie.

"Are you seeing Liam again?" she asked from behind me. My hand was on the knob. All I had to do was turn it and I was safe. But I froze, staring at that damn door for what seemed like minutes.

"Does it matter?"

"I thought we covered this last night," she said, her breath warm against my hair.

"Yeah, a lot of things were said last night." Her fingertips moved up my arm and slipped the thin strap of my tank top off my shoulder.

"I didn't mean to say this was a mistake," she whispered against my skin. "I just panicked."

"That doesn't mean it's not true." My body instinctively leaned into her, my head tilting slightly allowing her easier access. "We both know it."

"I still shouldn't have said it." She brushed my ponytail over my shoulder and her soft lips moved across my back. "Turn around."

Two words. How was it possible that two simple words could make me question everything? It was one thing for her to press me against a wall or forcefully grab me, but now she was putting everything in my court. Biting my lip hard, I tried to bring myself to turn the handle. My hand actually twitched before it fell to my side in defeat.

I turned and looked up to meet her eyes.

Her hand came to rest on my cheek, her thumb brushing across my bottom lip. Our gazes locked, and just when I thought I couldn't wait one more second she pulled me to her, pressing her mouth to mine.

The moment we kissed, my body gave up fighting and I couldn't get close enough. My purse landed on the tile floor at my feet and my hands dove into his hair, pulling him to me. She backed me into the wall and ran her hands down my body, lifting me slightly. She pushed into my yoga pants and cupped my ass.

"Fuck. What are you wearing?" She groaned into my neck, her palms sliding back and forth over the pink satin. Lifting me fully, she wrapped my legs around her waist and pressed me further into the wall. She moaned as I took her earlobe between my teeth.

Pulling one side of my top down, she sucked one of my nipples into her mouth. My head fell back and hit the wall as I felt her soft face against my breast. A shrill sound broke through my haze and I heard her swear. My phone. Placing me on my feet, she stepped away, her face already back in its usual scowl. I quickly rearranged my clothing and reached for my purse, grimacing when I saw the picture displayed on the screen.

"Shane," I answered breathlessly.

"Karma, are you in the bathroom fucking that nice slice of candy lady?"

"I'll be there in a second, okay?" I ended the call and shoved the phone back into my bag. I looked up at her, feeling my rational side return after the small interruption. "I should go."

"Look, I—" She was cut off as my phone rang again.

I answered without bothering to look at the screen. "God, Shane! I'm not in here fucking the piece of candy lady!"

"Karma?" Liam's confused voice sounded through the phone.

"Oh . . . hi." Shit. This could not be happening to me.

"I'm glad to hear that you're not . . . fucking . . . candy lady?" Liam said, laughing tightly.

"Who is it?" Amy growled.

I pressed my hand to her lips and gave her the dirtiest look I could manage. "Look, I can't really talk right now."

"Yeah, I'm sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. And I don't want to get anyone in trouble or anything, but right after you left I checked my e-mail and there was a confirmation for delivery of your flowers."

"Really?" I asked, feigning interest. My gaze was locked with Amy's.

"Well, it seems they were signed for Amy Raudenfeld."