Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 199

Chapter 199

I woke up two hours before my alarm went off.

Two whole hours staring at the ceiling of my South Kensington apartment, mentally rehearsing every possible scenario for today’s meeting. Most of them ended with me being transferred to the records department in the

basement.

By five a.m., I gave up on pretending to sleep and went straight to the shower, hoping hot water could wash away the anxiety sitting in my chest since yesterday. It didn’t.

Then came the real crisis: what the hell do you wear to a meeting with your boss-the same boss you hooked up with in an airplane bathroom? Was there an etiquette guide for this specific disaster?

First, I pulled out my navy dress, the one Zoey swore made me look like a “power executive.” Then I thought it was too much, like I was trying too hard. I switched to a white blouse and black skirt, but that screamed “school uniform.” Third try: beige blazer, tailored pants. One look in the mirror and I saw someone desperately trying to look professional.

I finally settled on a dark gray dress with three-quarter sleeves. Elegant but not too formal. Professional but not desperate. At least, that’s what I hoped.

I arrived at the office at seven-thirty- an hour and a half earlier than usual. The building was almost empty, just a few security guards and cleaning staff. Perfect. That gave me time to mentally prepare before facing Gwen and her well-meaning but inevitably awkward questions.

I rode up to the tenth floor and walked through the quiet hallways to my desk. The Kensington London office always had a certain majesty in the early hours-the golden light spilling through the tall windows, reflecting off the polished mahogany furniture. But today, it all felt… ominous.

I turned on my computer and tried to focus on the sales reports I still needed to finish. Numbers had always been my safe place as they were objective, logical, and predictable. Unlike a certain British man with green eyes and a dangerously confident smile.

But even the numbers couldn’t hold my attention. My gaze kept drifting toward the corridor leading to the executive offices. His office.

What kind of person was I, really? On that flight, I’d opened up to him. Told him I’d never had a serious relationship, that men only ever saw me as temporary fun, that I wanted someone who’d actually take me seriously. And then, the first chance I got, I slept with a complete stranger in an airplane bathroom.

Okay, fine. I thought I was going to die. But I didn’t. And now? What did Nathaniel think of me? That I was one of those women who said one thing and did another? That I was a hypocrite? Or worse-a fool who was too easy to forget?

The idea that he might use it against me made me nauseous. What if he told someone? What if he told Christian? ” Oh, yes, Annie Bennett. Met her before she started. In the airplane bathroom.”

God. I’d practically handed him the ammunition to ruin me.

At 8:15, I heard the elevator doors open and footsteps echo down the hall. My heart stopped, until I saw it was just Gwen, holding two takeaway coffees from the café down the street.

“Morning, sunshine,” she said, setting one cup on my desk. “Someone’s early today.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I admitted, taking the cup gratefully. “Thanks for this.”

“Figured you’d need it.” Gwen leaned against the edge of my desk, studying me with that sharp, investigative look of hers. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I might throw up any second.”

“Annie, you need to relax. It’s just a work meeting.”

She nodded and walked off, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

“Breathe,” Gwen whispered beside me. “You forgot to breathe.”

She wasn’t wrong. My lungs had apparently gone on strike.

For forty-five minutes, I tried to focus on work, but my mind refused to cooperate. Every minute stretched into an hour. Every time someone walked down the hall, my heart jumped, thinking it was him.

By nine fifty, I’d saved every file on my computer like I was bracing for a hurricane. I touched up my lipstick, made sure nothing was stuck between my teeth, and took three slow, deep breaths.

Then I stood, straightened my dress, and started down the executive hallway. Each step echoed louder than the last. When I stopped in front of Nathaniel Carter’s office, my pulse was pounding in my ears.

On the other side of that door was the man who’d made me moan his name at forty thousand feet. The same man who now held my career in his hands.

I knocked three times-firm, professional.

“Come in,” came the voice from inside.

I took one last deep breath, turned the handle, and stepped into what was about to be the most important and most mortifying meeting of my life.