Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 32776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
I stabbed the lobby button and flexed my wrists.
No one had ever dared to talk to me like that in public before, and I wasn’t going to allow Chloe to be the first to get away with it.
When the doors freed me at the first level, I spotted Chloe hailing a cab at the curb.
I don’t think so.
I strolled outside as she was opening the back door.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I grabbed her elbow, spinning her around to face me. “You think you get to leave? Just like that?”
“Obviously.” She glared at me. “I think that’s what’s best at this point.”
“If you think I won’t have my legal team put you through hell for the next ten years of your life, Miss Sterling…”
“I don’t think that.” She snapped. “I know that, and that’s exactly why I’m done. I’m giving you every dime of your money back—minus two days—and I’m already looking forward to getting sleep again.”
“I will blacklist you from every real estate agency in the city,” I said. “You’ll have a hard time working again.”
“Of course you will.” She scoffed. “That’s exactly why you’ll never get anyone to see you as anything other than ruthless. It’s also why you’ll never get The Holden, and I’ll be joining the people working hard to make sure you don’t.”
She spun around to tug the door handle again, but I gripped her waist and made her face me again.
“I’m not done talking,” I said.
“Well, I am.” She hissed. “I already told you and that shitty guy in there all I had to say. Newsflash: You’re either likable or you’re not. And I hate to break it to you, Mr. Dante Hudson, but you’re really fucking not.”
“I don’t appreciate you cursing at me.”
“I don’t work for you anymore, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Hey lady!” the driver yelled at her. “Are you planning to get in my cab or not?”
“She’s not.” I answered for her and shut the door.
Grabbing her hand, I pulled her toward the alleyway so we could finish our conversation in private.
“I’ll have your money sent back by the end of the night,” she said, leaning against the bricks. “Well, almost all of it…I need to calculate the actual hours I’ve worked, and I think that’s fair.”
“What’s fair would be you shutting your mouth for a moment and listening.” I glared at her. “I’ve decided that I don’t want you to quit.”
“I already made up my mind.”
“I’m not the bullshitting type, Miss Sterling,” I said. “As good as your grandstanding makes you feel, I’m pretty sure you can’t afford to survive the next few months without a job. Correct?”
She crossed her arms, but the answer was written all over her face.
“Let’s assume that I’m not as likable as you say.”
“You’re not.”
“I said, let’s assume.”
“I’m telling you it’s a fact.”
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “Would six months be enough time for me to repair some of that image?”
“I think you’d need at least nine…” She shook her head, pulling out her phone. “And that’s if you actually started fixing the things I’ve told you about.”
“My units are handled by people I trust, Miss Sterling,” I said. “I give tenants exactly what they pay for, so—”
I stopped talking when she flipped the screen around. It was a photo of a bathroom with mold on the shower tiles and a window so dirty it looked more like a mud painting.
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
“That’s the bathroom at my current place—which you happen to own,” she said. “I guess I don’t pay enough for it to be mold-free, huh?”
I looked at the picture again, and then she swiped to a few others.
“Like I was saying…” Her voice was low. “You could start by seeing things for yourself and fixing things. Then maybe people might start believing that you care, and from there, you might slowly become likable. Keyword: might.”
“Let’s go look at a few places this Saturday,” I said, still refusing to believe her. “I’ll pick you up at six, and then you won’t have any excuses about sleeping from now until then…”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to work with you for another three months after my six is up,” she said. “It’s already torture enough.”
“I agree,” I said. “It’s quite torturous being around you, but I’m willing to deal with it.”
“I haven’t done anything to torture you at all, Mr. Hudson.”
“You’re wearing a dress when I specifically asked you to wear pantsuits…” I glanced down at her beige fabric.
“My friend brought it to me when she picked me up,” she said. “It’s all she could find.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I placed my hands on the bricks above her head. “I told you not to.”
“I’m not responsible for your horniness problem, Mr. Hudson.”
“I’m pretty sure this is a mutual problem…”
My lips crashed against hers, and she gasped as I steadied her hips with my hands.