The Night Before I Knew Him (June and Hermes) novel Chapter 7

June

Phew. I sigh as I watch the car drive off.

For a second there, I thought he was going to fire me.

Relief washes over me… then embarrassment slaps me in the face.

How the hell did I not notice my tits were practically on display?

Oh God.

First, I sleep with him—and now this? He’s going to think I’m doing it on purpose. Like I’m trying to seduce him.

Shit.

I hail a cab and go straight home. CEO’s orders.

As I step inside, Leila lifts a brow, unplugging her curling iron.

"Well now, you’re awfully back early. Did you get kicked out of the internship or quit yourself?"

I collapse onto the couch with a loud groan. "Thankfully, I survived Day Two. But something so embarrassing happened."

Her eyes go wide. "What? What is it?" She rushes over.

I don’t answer. I just shrug off the driver's jacket and show her the shirt underneath.

She stares, confused, at first, then slowly, her mouth parts.

"No." A horrified gasp.

I nod. "Mm-hmm."

"You didn’t know?"

"Not a single freaking clue. And I followed him to a meeting like this." I cry out.

"No way!"

"He ended the meeting early and told me to go home. Said I should wear something more ‘appropriate’ tomorrow."

I bury my face in my hands, dying all over again.

"Jesus Christ. Girl—” Leila is gaping.

"That’s it. I’m done. He's definitely going to think I did it on purpose. Like I was trying to remind him we’d slept together, which I wasn’t! But now—ugh."

Leila is speechless. She just stares at me.

I spring to my feet, already spiraling. "I’m not going back tomorrow. Not a chance. I can endure his cruelty, but not this level of embarrassment."

"Wait—what?" Leila jumps up too. "You’re quitting?"

"I guess so." I pout, defeated.

She blinks at me, baffled. "But... you said you’d handle it. What happened to the girl from yester—"

Her phone rings. Loud and sharp, that we both flinch.

"It’s my mom. Excuse me." She glances at the screen and steps aside to answer.

I collapse back on the couch, rubbing the back of my neck.

Leila’s like my moral compass. And the way she was staring at me just now… God, why can’t I handle this?

She returns a few minutes later, her tone rushed. "My mom needs help at the store. I’ll be gone for a few days."

She darts into the room, grabs a small bag, and comes back out.

"And please...don’t quit over this. You’re stronger than a wardrobe malfunction. We’ll figure out a way to redeem yourself, okay?"

She’s already halfway to the door. "I’ll call you when I get to Spring Valley. We’ll surely figure something out."

Then she pauses at the doorframe. "And...you’re all alone now. Kayla traveled too. She’s not coming back for a while."

I lift a hand, half-heartedly. "Great. Y’all just leave me to my fate."

Leila laughs and blows me a kiss. "See you soon. Love you!"

“I love you too,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead.

The door closes behind her, and just like that, I feel completely... alone.

I pull out my phone, go straight to Go*gle, and type:

“How to redeem yourself when your CEO, who you accidentally slept with without knowing his identity — thinks you’re trying to seduce him.”

I stare at the screen, sighing. The answers are vague, ambiguous and useless.

Nothing about tits and billionaires and former one-night stands turned bosses.

I scroll, and scroll. Swiping through blog posts, HR advice threads, and some shady Red*it comments.

None of it helps.

Then, somewhere between humiliation and despair, my eyes grow heavy, and I drift off to sleep, with my phone still in hand.

One second I'm on the couch, the next, I’m in his office.

Of course I am. Because even in my dreams, I’m apparently still employed.

Except I’m not wearing pants.

"Miss Alexander," Hermes says with a voice like gravel dipped in silk, "you’ve forgotten something."

I look down. My shirt’s buttoned wrong, my legs are bare, and my panties are bright red — cherry red. The slutty emergency pair. Why did I wear those? Oh god.

"I—I can explain," I stammer, grabbing a file to cover myself.

"Don’t bother," he says coolly, but his eyes drop, and stay there. "You’ve made quite an impression."

He rounds the desk, and I back away, but my heel snaps, so I fall, and land right in his chair.

"Oh, how convenient," he murmurs.

Then he’s kneeling in front of me, undoing the buttons I definitely don’t remember allowing. His hands are warm and slow. Too slow.

"Mr. Grande," I whisper.

"Hermes," he corrects, his mouth ghosting the inside of my thigh. "You’re now off the clock."

I let out a sound that is not professional. At all.

He leans in like he’s about to kiss me, right there—

And the door slams open.

Leila walks in with a clipboard. "You’re late for your firing."

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