The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3) by T.L. Swan

“Not happening.”

She shuffles the papers on her desk. “Fine, see you on Tuesday week.”

The board meeting.

I glare at her as I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Fucking bitch.

“Ahh . . . Elliot,” Christopher prompts me. “We have to go.”

I clench my jaw as I glare at her. “Name your price to resign.”

“Go to hell.”

“I will not be accosted with your trivial complaints every single time I walk through my office,” I growl.

“Then stop making stupid decisions.”

Our eyes are locked.

“Goodbye, Mr. Miles, close the door on your way out.” She smiles sweetly. “See you at the board meeting.”

I inhale sharply as I grapple with control.

“Elliot,” Christopher prompts me again. “This way.”

I storm from her office straight into the elevator. Christopher is hot on my heels and the doors close behind us.

“Holy fuck. I hate that woman,” I whisper angrily.

“If it makes you feel any better”—he smirks—“she hates you more.”

I loosen my tie with a hard jerk. “Is it too early for a Scotch?” I ask.

Christopher looks at his watch. “It’s nine-fifteen a.m.”

I inhale heavily as I try to calm myself down.

“Who fucking cares.”

Chapter 1


I throw my lunch into a bag and look around for my keys. “I’m leaving,” I call to Rebecca.

Beck pops her head around the bathroom door; she’s wrapped in a white towel with another around her head. “Make sure you’re not home late tonight. I don’t want it to seem awkward and weird when he gets here.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it, I want him to feel welcome, and you know, it would be nice for us both to be here to settle Daniel in.”

I roll my eyes as I look for my keys. Where are they? “What makes you think that he wants us to settle him in?”

“I just think it would be nice to give a good first impression.”

“Okay, I get it.” I spot my keys in the small basket on the coffee table.

“I’m picking up our netball uniforms today in my lunch break,” she calls.

I smirk; God help us, we’re starting to play indoor netball this week. My first competitive sporting activity since high school. “I can’t wait,” I call back. “Hopefully they come standard with defibrillators. I’m so unfit I might have a heart attack.”

Rebecca laughs as she unwraps the towel from her head. “You have a gym in your building at work, why don’t you use it?”

I make my way toward the door. “I know, I really should stop being so lazy.”

“Do you think I should cook Daniel dinner tonight?” she asks.

I screw up my face. “Why are you breaking your neck to be so nice to this guy?”

“I’m not.”

“Do you fancy him or something?” I widen my eyes. “I didn’t see you going to all these lengths for our last flatmate.”

“Yeah, because she was a pain in my ass, and besides, Daniel is new in town, just arriving today, and he knows nobody. I feel sorry for him.”

“He’s a personal stylist, I’m pretty sure he has his own wanky friends to hang out with,” I mutter dryly.

“Correction, he’s a fashion graduate who has moved to London because he wants to be a stylist, there’s a big difference.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever, see you tonight.”

I take the stairs and three flights later I’m in the street and walking toward the train station. It’s only three stops until the Central line but still, too far to walk.

I wait on the platform, and right on schedule along comes my train. I climb on and take a seat.

I’ve come to the realization that this is the weirdest twenty minutes of my day. It’s like a time tunnel; I take a seat, I look around, and the next minute I’m miraculously there. I must fall into this catatonic state—I don’t know what I think about, I don’t know where the time goes. I just know that somehow, every day I lose twenty minutes thinking about subjects that I can’t remember.

I get off the train and make my way to the office. I work in central London, and there’s a small coffee shop diagonally across from the Miles Media building; it’s busy and bustling as people rush in and out on their way to work.