A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss (by Gregory Ellington) novel Chapter 374

**TITLE: Wram 374**

Madison

I poured a steaming cup of coffee, watching the dark liquid swirl into the mug. “That was years ago. People change,” I remarked, trying to brush off the weight of the past.

“Some things, however, remain constant,” Hazel shot back, her tone sharp. “Like Alexander’s relentless drive to get exactly what he desires.”

“I’m not what he wants,” I asserted, my voice steady. “I never was.”

Before Hazel could launch into another argument, Ethan burst into the kitchen, his backpack bouncing against his back. “Ready!” he declared, his excitement palpable.

“Just let me grab my keys,” I replied, setting my mug down with a soft clink and making my way to the entryway.

The drive to preschool was a whirlwind of Ethan’s animated chatter about volcanoes erupting, dinosaurs roaming the earth, and his friend Adriel, who, according to Ethan, could count all the way to one hundred.

“That’s very impressive,” I acknowledged, pulling into the preschool parking lot with a smile.

“I can count to fifty-seven!” Ethan announced, pride shining in his eyes.

“What happens after fifty-seven?” I prompted, curious.

“Um…” He hesitated, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Fifty-eight?”

“Exactly right!” I praised, unbuckling his seatbelt and guiding him toward the door, where Miss Daisy, his teacher, awaited us with a warm smile.

“Ready for volcano day?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“So ready!” Ethan exclaimed, giving my legs a quick hug before darting inside like a rocket.

“He’s very excited,” Miss Daisy chuckled, watching him go.

“That’s one word for it,” I replied, waving goodbye as I turned back to my car, feeling a mix of pride and nostalgia.

Returning home, I found Hazel at the kitchen table, her laptop open and her phone glued to her ear.

“No, I said the blue background, not navy. There’s a significant difference,” she explained, her frustration evident. She looked up at me, mouthing “nightmare client” while gesturing emphatically. “Yes, I understand it’s urgent. That’s precisely why I’m working on it right now instead of enjoying my vacation in Connecticut.”

I left her to her chaos and prepared for my day. I slipped into a pair of jeans, a soft pink sweater that wrapped me in comfort, and applied minimal makeup. It was the kind of look that was professional enough for a café owner but casual enough to suggest I hadn’t spent an hour last night agonizing over my outfit in case Alexander actually decided to show up.

Which he wouldn’t.

Probably.

As I passed my mom’s room, I noticed she was already awake, gracefully flowing through her morning yoga routine. She had made a remarkable recovery, thanks to proper treatment and her fierce determination to not let anything slow her down.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she called out, her voice bright. “Off to the café?”

“Yeah. Hazel’s here if you need anything,” I replied, feeling a warmth spread through me at her cheerful presence.

“That girl,” Mom said with a fond shake of her head. “Always showing up unannounced. Give her a kiss for me.”

“Will do,” I promised, grabbing my keys from their hook by the door.

The drive to Harper’s Haven took about fifteen minutes, my mind blissfully blank as I navigated the familiar streets. The parking lot was already buzzing with activity when I arrived. Christopher’s sleek black Tesla occupied its usual spot near the entrance. Inside, Ellie and Mark were already bustling behind the counter, the morning rush in full swing, their energy infectious.

“Morning, boss!” Ellie called out, expertly balancing three lattes on a tray. “Fair warning, Mrs. Grayson’s already asked for you twice.”

“What does she want now?” I inquired, tying my apron around my waist, ready to face the day.

“Something about the muffins being too moist yesterday,” Ellie replied, her tone half-amused.

“They’re supposed to be moist,” I muttered, glancing at the pastry display. “That’s what makes them delicious.”

“Big client meeting this afternoon,” he said, leaning against the counter casually. “A real estate developer looking to expand into Connecticut. It could be a significant opportunity for the firm.”

“That’s wonderful,” I replied, focusing on steaming the milk, trying to keep my tone light. “Sounds promising.”

“We’ll see,” he said, his expression turning serious. “These developers can be tricky. They want everything yesterday and refuse to pay for quality work.” He paused, then added, “Are you free for dinner this weekend? There’s a new Italian place in Hartford I’ve been wanting to try.”

Not this again.

“Christopher, I’ve told you—”

“Just dinner,” he interrupted, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “As friends. No pressure.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I replied, feeling a mix of frustration and guilt.

“You have to eat, don’t you?” His smile was charming, practiced, as if he had rehearsed this moment. “Come on, Madison. One dinner. If you hate it, I’ll never ask again.”

I handed him his latte, feeling the warmth of the cup seep into my palms. “I’ll think about it,” I said, my heart racing slightly at the prospect.

“I’ll take that as progress,” he replied, dropping a ten-dollar bill into the tip jar with a flourish. “Call me if you need anything today, okay? I’ll have my phone on during the meeting.”

“I’ll be fine, but thanks,” I said, already feeling the weight of the conversation lift as he lingered a moment longer, clearly hoping for more commitment on the dinner front. Eventually, he grabbed his laptop bag and headed for the door, leaving me with a swirl of emotions.

“He’s persistent,” Ellie observed once he’d left, her tone teasing. “Kind of sweet, actually.”

“Kind of annoying,” I countered, wiping down the espresso machine, trying to shake off the remnants of our exchange.

“He’s successful, good-looking, and clearly interested,” she said, waggling her eyebrows playfully. “Could be worse.”

“Could be better too,” I muttered under my breath, trying to focus on the tasks at hand as the day unfolded around me.