Page 85 of Our Sadie
“What’s the error say?” I ask, so engrossed in our discussion that I don’t register the fact that Jerome has entered and is standing behind me until he clears his throat.
I startle so vehemently that I send the laptop tumbling to the floor. “Goddammit, you scared the bejesus out of me.”
He chuckles. “Sorry about that. Am I interrupting something?”
My heart is pounding so violently it might be bruising my ribcage. Why did he sneak up on me like that? I reach for my laptop, praying it’s not damaged. It seems all right from what a swift glance can tell me.
“Yes, actually. Can you come back in about ten minutes?” Absorbing my exasperation, he sobers.
“Sure. Everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” I bite out, countering my own words. But I’m a little frustrated with him. Why didn’t he knock and request my attention instead of barging right in? Even if I had the door pushed to rather than shut, asking before entering is common courtesy.
“Caroline?” I hear my phone from somewhere around my feet and hunt down where I nearly kicked the thing under the sofa.
“I’m here.”
“That was one of your freelancers, wasn’t it?”
“Jerome.”
“Ooh, I read his profile, and his pic is delicious. Is he seriously that attractive in person?”
Some of my ire lessens at Win’s nonsense. “Even more so. They all are.”
“Maybe I should try my own experiment in purchasing one of our men for my needs.”
“Maybe,” I say, and it strikes me that somewhere in all this commotion I accidentally put my bestie on speakerphone.
I finish my work, and at last, when Win reloads the page, the error is resolved. Ending the call with my friend, logging out of the site, and clearing my history for good measure, I advance out of my room to track down Jerome, only to discover him loitering right outside my door.
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you as per your instructions.” He sounds so... formal. But whatever.
“Did you need something?”
“Who were you speaking to just now?”
Irritation skitters through me, but I answer regardless. “Winter. Why?”
“Listen, I understand what I do for a living now and what I’ve done in the past may make me sound like nothing but a product, and that’s on me. But for future reference, I don’t appreciate being talked about like some soulless slab of beef.”
He’s angry. Angrier than I’ve ever seen him. But his temper being ignited only sets off my own.
“Well, I don’t appreciate you eavesdropping on me like a spy.”
“I’m hardly a spy. If I was, I’d be a hell of a lot more aware of what you’re up to.”
I scowl, squinting at him as I shake my head in staccato-like motions. “What are you inferring, Jerome?”
“I came here on behalf of Dom, Zach, and myself to determine what’s going to happen at the conclusion of our contracts.” I open my mouth to reply but he cuts me off. “But apparently what I need to find out is what you and your friend meant by ‘our men.’”
Puzzled, I blink at him. “What?”
“That’s what your friend said. ‘Our men.’ Like you own us or something. What’s that all about?”
All at once I comprehend that he not only overheard my side of my conversation with Winter, he also heard the part where she mentioned attempting her own experiment. Like I am. With my three freelance contractors. Contractors I both hired as a client and hired as the person who is the co-owner of the Elegance company.