Page 25 of Playing with the Boss
“You part own this place?” Her eyes dart everywhere but at me as she regards the building with a new perspective.
“Is that a problem?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” She takes a step back before muttering to herself, “No wonder you’re bloody staying here.”
“What of it?” I follow her back out onto the street, much to the doorman’s annoyance. “Wouldn’t you stay here if it cost you nothing?”
“I feel like such an idiot, now.”
“Why?” Fucking women. They never make sense.
She lifts her chin defiantly. “Here I am, pretty much begging you to make sure I don’t lose my job, hoping you’d have an ounce of sympathy for how hard it is to get by between jobs. And for what?” She tosses her hands in the air. “Of course, you wouldn’t care. You’re clearly loaded. You wouldn’t know what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck.”
“Quite the assumption, isn’t it?” I mirror her stance, folding my arms.
“Accurate, though?”
“Partially.” She’s got no idea where I started from.
“Thanks for… for this.” She falters, apparently unsure what to say next to get herself the hell out of here.
Like fuck, she’s going anywhere. Not off the back of some cock-eyed assumption. “This is not finished.”
“Isn’t it? I think this revelation of yours has proved how worlds apart we are.” She turns her head to check the driveway.
Damn it. I spot the taxi offloading his fare at the same time as Lisa does. “Oh, no you don’t.”
“Watch me.” Her heels click loudly on the pavement as she takes off at speed toward the cab.
I’m forced to jog to dive in front of her, drawing attention. “Quit being so silly.”
“Silly?” She halts, lifting one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Is that how you see me? Silly, like a child?”
“Right now, yes,” I snap. Damn it. Not exactly going to work in my favor if I talk to her like that. Still… this woman.
“Good night, Mason.” She reaches for the taxi door.
I slam my palm to the glass and lean against it.
The front window glides down. “Are you getting in, or what?”
Fuck’s sake. I back away and lean down to level my heated gaze with the damn driver. ”Are you always this rude to customers?”
The slam of the rear door has me grinding my molars to save saying something I’m really going to regret.
“I’m sorry,” Lisa offers the driver in a sickly-sweet voice from the back seat. “Ignore him.”
I straighten and side-step, ripping her door back open before she has a chance to finish giving the guy her destination.
The driver sighs.
I shoot him the kind of look that hopefully conveys what’ll happen if he so much as breathes too heavily from here on in.
“Get out, Lisa.”
She slams her hands in her lap, purposefully staring straight ahead. “No. I really feel for my own interests it would serve us better to keep this relationship purely professional from now.”
“Get out, now.”