Page 5 of Possessing Paisley

Fucking asshole.

2

PAISLEY

I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to waking up in such a luxurious place. My bedroom alone is as big as mine and Chloe’s last townhouse. The attached bathroom is what dreams and orgasms are made of. I should probably offer Bash some money for the water bill because I don’t think I’ve taken a quick shower since I moved in. It would be pointless, though. Bash hasn’t let me pay for a single thing in the past few weeks. I’m starting to feel spoiled. How am I going to go back to living like a broke college student after this?

Chloe says she wants me to live with them forever, and she means it. We’ve been best friends for years. Practically attached at the hip when we were in college. It wasn’t until she went to law school that we lived apart for a while. It was torture. The two of us gel together perfectly and never get on each other’s nerves. She’s the first person in my life I know, without a doubt, loves me. Bash would let me live here for the rest of my life if it’s what Chloe wants, but surely, he’ll get tired of me.

So, while he’s not letting me pay him for rent or bills or food, I’m putting every last dime I can into savings. Between that and hopefully getting promoted to portfolio manager withmy accounting firm, I might be able to put a down payment on a house within the next two years. One with a shower just like this.

Now that my skin is red and blotchy from the heat, I turn off the taps and wrap a towel around myself, then pad across the heated floor to the vanity. Concealer. I need concealer. Lots of it. Working long hours, then coming home and working on the makeup brand is doing a number on my under eyes. I guess I’m really going to put the concealer formula we came up with to the test trying to cover up the dark circles.

One part of the large vanity is filled with eyeshadows, lipsticks, liners, blush, contour sticks, foundation, and my new best friend, concealer. I love makeup, and it’s been fun experimenting with all the different ones we’ve created. Although the other girls are more willing to play with colors, I stick to my black winged liner and blood-red lipstick combo. It’s classic and goes with my whole aesthetic.

I scan through the still-unnamed lipsticks and pick the one I keep going back to. We came up with four reds, but this particular one is the perfect shade with blue undertones that give it that vampy vibe. Just what I like. When you work in a man’s world— I’m only one of three women in my firm—looking like a badass bitch comes in handy.

It's going to be another long day. It feels like every day is long lately. The crappy part is I don’t love the job I spent four years preparing for. Whatever. It pays well and has excellent benefits. Things I was never blessed with growing up. So, like it or not, I’m thankful as hell for it.

“Go kick some ass,” I tell myself in the mirror before I grab the tube of vamp red lipstick that I still need to think of a name for and head out for the day.

When I step out of the front door, I do a double take at my car. Sitting on the hood is a brown paper bag with an attached note waving at me in the cool morning breeze.

I look around for anyone who might have left it, but there’s no one in sight. The property is locked down like Fort Knox with guards, cameras, and probably some man-eating dogs; and I’m pretty sure there’s even a piranha pond somewhere. So, whoever left it is someone who belongs here. Man, I’m getting paranoid. All this security and overprotective men have gotten to me.

After I toss my purse into the back seat, I grab the bag and rip off the note.

Paisley,

I may not be the boss of you, but not eating all day is unacceptable. For once, don’t be stubborn and eat these snacks. They’re all packaged, so you can rest assured that I didn’t poison them.

-Kieran

My lips twitch, and I try so hard to fight a smile, but it doesn’t work. The guy is a major pain in the ass. I’m not sure major is the right word. Tremendous, maybe? Enormous? But this was nice. Even if he did write a snarky note. I guess I deserve it for how snappy I was last night.

Peeking into the bag, I sigh. Granola bars, protein bars, fruit snacks—which he gets bonus points for because those are the superior snack—beef jerky, a banana, crackers, and a bunch of other random stuff.

Being the brat that I am, I kind of want to go over to his house, pound on his door, and tell him he’s definitely not the boss of me. Just because. Instead, I put the snacks in the back, next to my purse, and head to work, feeling just a tad bit more optimistic about the day ahead.

My optimistic attitude doesn’t last more than twenty minutes after walking into my office. Chuck, my boss, saunters in and plops himself and his big belly down in a chair across from me. He looks like a cat who caught a mouse.

“You got the Callahan account. It’s about time. They’ve been hesitant to sign with us for years.”

My stomach does a giddy little dance. “They’re a great couple.” Great is an understatement. They have more money than God, but they’re truly decent people. They give back and use their wealth to help people instead of hoarding it all. Not that they have to give it away. They’ve earned every dollar they have, and it would be their right to hang onto it. One day, I hope I’m in a position to do the same. It won’t be at the magnitude the Callahans do, but that’s okay.

“I think you should share this account with Adam. It’s a big one to take on yourself, and Adam has more experience with large portfolios.”

My blood runs cold, and the excitement in my tummy turns to acid that’s burning a hole in it.

He is out of his ever-loving mind. I’m not sharing jack squat. There isn’t a portfolio manager in this building who shares accounts. Each one of us has worked up from entry-level accountants with the company to where we are now. We’ve proven ourselves. Being one of the very few women in the firm, I’ve worked twice as hard to prove myself worthy of the position.

I sit up straighter and square my shoulders. “I’m not sharing this account. I’ve worked day and night for the past several months, securing the Callahan portfolio. I’m the one who metwith them over and over to answer all of their questions and concerns. I’ve worked tirelessly on their proposal and my recommendations. They trust me and have chosen to work with me.”

Chuck stares at me in stunned silence. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting that response. Did he think I was going to give him a high-five and thank him for assuming I couldn’t handle it myself?

He must realize how pissed I am because instead of arguing, he stands and sighs. “Well, that’s your right, I suppose. But maybe think on it. It’s your entire career on the line if you mess this up. At least if you have someone else on the account with you, it’s more reassurance that you’ll be successful with the Callahans.”

Then, he turns and strides out of my office like he didn’t just ask me to share my clients with his dickwad of a son. Okay, Adam isn’t a total dick. At least he hasn’t been to me, but I keep my distance. There’s definitely been some favoritism for him since his dad is higher-up in the company, which means he can’t be trusted. It’s one of the reasons I want that promotion so badly, so I don’t have to work under Chuck.