: Chapter 4
“There he is, Casanova himself.” Breaker takes a seat in my office and smirks at me. “How was it? Love at first sight?”
I unbutton my suit jacket and take a seat in my office chair. The moment the elevator doors opened, I spotted Breaker waiting with a to-go cup of coffee in hand, looking for one person: me.
His text messages last night went unanswered.
I ignored him as I said hello to our receptionist.
I didn’t bother making eye contact with him when I was grabbing my own cup of coffee from the break room.
And when he barged into my office right after me, I chose to not growl in frustration at his persistence.
But now that he’s sitting across from me, staring me down, looking for a recap, it doesn’t seem like I have a choice but to tell him about last night’s disaster.
From the inside of my suit pocket, I pull my phone out and set it on my desk before leaning back in my chair. “Last night?” I steeple my fingers together. “Well, when I first saw my date, I actually hoped it would go well, but that thought quickly vanished when she opened her mouth.”
“Oh shit, did she have a screechy voice?”
I shake my head. “No, she let me know how much she hated me.”
Breaker’s brow draws together in confusion. “What do you mean? Did she know you?”
I slowly nod. “Oh yeah, she knew me.”
“How? Did you go out with her once?”
“Nope.” I shake the mouse on my desk, waking up my computer. “My date was Kelsey.”
“Kelsey?” Breaker asks in disbelief. “As in Lottie’s sister?”
“Yup.”
“Oh, fuck.” Breaker busts out in a long, drawn-out laugh. The sound fucking irritates me. “Dude, what are the chances?”
“Pretty good, apparently.”
“Let me guess—she walked out of the restaurant when she saw it was you?”
“Nope. Because of the program’s rules, you’re forced to eat dinner with the person they set you up with. And because we showed signs of a full-out medieval battle, they put us in the private loft, away from everyone else.”
“And how did that go?”
“Not great.” I open my inbox and am flooded by emails.
“But you said you were excited at first. Why?”
“Because it was Kelsey,” I say casually. “I knew her, so I didn’t have to try to get to know a stranger when I was already not in the mood to be there. Didn’t think it would be uncomfortable, plus . . . she looked hot.” I shrug. “But all of that washed away the moment she begged me to leave.”
“Which she wasn’t allowed to do, and I’m sure that only made her even angrier. She has the same fiery spirit as Lottie.”
“Yeah, and it showed. When I say she was unpleasant, I’m not kidding. We ended up fighting the entire time and, sure, I didn’t help matters. At the end of the night, we went our separate ways.”
“And how do you feel about that?” Breaker asks.
“Relieved,” I answer. “It was fucking exhausting having dinner with her. Sure, I like some quick-witted repartee here and there, but when I got home, I felt drained.”
Breaker is silent for a moment as he studies me. I’m sure he’s looking for some sort of tell that I’m lying. He’s wondering if Kelsey and I did hit it off and we’re secretly dating now.
Could not be further from the truth.
“Why don’t I believe you?” he asks.
Here we go.
“Dude, trust me when I say—” I stop speaking, my eyes falling on an email from Kelsey.
Subject line: I’m coming to your office.
I barely have time to open it before the door to my office flies open and Kelsey steps in. The expression on her face reads irritated, and the way her hands clench at her sides makes me feel anxious. The surprised look in her eyes when she spots Breaker completely changes her demeanor in seconds.
“Breaker, hi.” She smooths her hand over her hair. “I, uh, I didn’t see you there. Sorry about barging in.”
Breaker, of course, smiles, showing off his freshly whitened teeth. “Hey, Kelsey, heard you had quite the night last night.”
Kelsey’s murderous eyes flash to me. “You told him?”
“Well, he’s my brother, and he was the one who forced me to go on the date, so it’s only natural that he’d ask me how it went.”
Composing herself, Kelsey turns to Breaker and asks, “Would you give me a second with your brother?”
He smirks and stands. “Of course.”
Before he can walk away, Kelsey adds, “And I would appreciate your discretion in this matter.”
Breaker pats her on the shoulder and says, “I understand the need to not be attached by name to him. I wish I wasn’t either.”
Wow, what a brother.
He takes off and closes the door behind him. I turn my attention to Kelsey, who closes the distance between us and takes a seat in the chair Breaker just vacated.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask her.
“After last night, I figured we need to talk about how to handle this.”
“Handle what?” I pause and tilt my head to the side. “Oh, hell, did you fall in love with me last night and now you’re trying to figure out how to muddle through work while harboring these intense feelings about me?”
Her face falls flat only for her top lip to curl into a sneer. “If any revelation happened last night, it most certainly had nothing to do with love and everything to do with this extreme distaste I have for you.”
“Ooh, distaste. That’s a new one.” I lean my forearms on my desk. “Please do elaborate.”
“This isn’t funny, JP.”
“Didn’t know I was laughing.”
Her eyes narrow and she speaks through clenched teeth. “You don’t have to laugh in order to make a laughing matter out of something that’s incredibly serious.”
I pick up a pen off my very untidy desk, a desk that I know drives Kelsey nuts. The tension in her expression is from our conversation, but the death grip she has on the chair’s armrests is undoubtedly from the rumpled reports on my desk, the askew pen jar that’s tipped over, and the unconventional way I have my computer tilted.
“Okay, tell me why our situation is incredibly serious, because unless I missed something, nothing, and I mean nothing, happened between us last night. Well, nothing that requires this level of psychosis.”
“JP, we went on a date last night.”
“Not by our choice.” I click the pen open and then shut.
“But it still happened. We shared an intense meal, and then after, when we were leaving, you said . . . you said some things.”
“Oh . . . the whole ‘If you were in my bed, your cunt would be begging for my cock’ part?”
She swallows, her cheeks heating. “Yes, that part.”
“It was just basic facts. Nothing to make note of.”
“Well”—she smooths her hands over her well-pressed, possibly steamed, skirt—“it was inappropriate, and we need to set some ground rules here.”
“This should be good.” I lace my hands together behind my head and say, “Lay it on me—what are the ground rules?”
“Well, for one—”
“Real quick, I just need to put this out there—your reaction is completely ridiculous and over the top, but you know, to each their own. Your feelings are your feelings . . . all that bullshit.” I gesture to her. “You may proceed.”
Her nostrils flare, and I realize it’s a small tick of hers when she’s upset. “As I was saying, our first ground rule is we don’t speak of last night, ever. I didn’t tell Lottie and I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else.”
“Am I that repulsive?”
“Yes.”
I chuckle because I thought she was going to say no to that and come up with some long-winded explanation, but got to give the girl credit for her honesty.
“I also don’t want people thinking I get involved with any man who crosses my path or that I’m trying to climb the corporate ladder by spreading my legs.”
“Don’t worry, your sister covered that one.”
Her eyes narrow and she points her finger. “That was not how that went down and you know it.”
“You’re right, that was uncalled for. Sorry.” If anyone pursued that relationship, it was Huxley, because he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off Lottie.
My apology seems to satisfy her because she continues, “So we don’t talk about last night, ever. Act like it never happened.”
“I wish it didn’t.” I smile at her, which only makes her grind her teeth together. Jesus, talk about uptight. Could she relax for like a second?
“JP, I need you to say you’re never going to talk about it.”
“Christ.” I roll my eyes. “I’m never going to talk about it.”
That appeases the gremlin inside her.
“Second ground rule—there will be no more inappropriate behavior.”
I kick my feet up on my desk and lean back in my chair. “Not sure what you’re alluding to with that ground rule.”
“The way you speak to me and the little touches need to end.”
“You act as if I’m grazing your hand when I walk by or sliding my hand to your lower back . . . or gripping your thigh while at the conference table. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that has never happened.”
“It, uh . . . it hasn’t. But you know, the things you say aren’t appropriate for a workplace, so that needs to stop.”
“The ‘cunt calling out for my cock’ thing was outside of work.”
“You’ve said more than that while at work, and don’t deny it.”
I have.
“Okay, your wish is my command, babe.”
“And none of that.” She points her finger at me again. “None of that babe stuff. I’m Kelsey, you’re JP, and that’s it. Nothing else. I’m not your babe.”
“Just a term of endearment, but sure, Kelsey. That’s how I’ll refer to you from now on, unless you wanted something more along the lines of . . . fishwife?”
Let’s pause here for a moment. I’m not a complete asshole . . . all the time. I’m really not. But Kelsey just has the best reactions, and I can’t resist. She’s so goddamned gorgeous, and it’s fun to rile her. To ruffle her feathers.
“You do realize you’re the absolute worst to have a conversation with, right? Like . . . the absolute worst,” she says, her face wincing with irritation.
“I only seem to receive that sort of feedback from you, which makes me think it’s a you thing, not a me thing.”
She pinches her brow and I swear she silently counts to ten. “And thirdly—”
“A third ground rule? Was not expecting that. Total plot twist.” I lean back in my chair again. “Please, continue to pleasure me with your commands.”
“I’m talking to Huxley and asking him if I can fall under his management because our working relationship is volatile.”
“Ooh, you see, I was with you on points one and two, but unfortunately, your line of work falls under my line of work, therefore, that makes you my employee. Huxley isn’t going to bother taking on another task when his plate is already full. He also doesn’t take too kindly to people telling him what to do, even if you’re his future sister-in-law. And if you do approach him, all he’s going to do is pull us into a conference room and ask that we work things out . . . in front of him. Now, given the restrictions that ground rule one presents us, you’re not going to be able to tell him the truth as to why you don’t want to work under me anymore, and therefore have no validity behind your case. Also, you’re only going to paint yourself as confrontational since everyone else that does work with me has given me nothing but rave reviews. So . . . if you want to embarrass yourself and shine a spotlight on your difficult disposition, by all means, approach Huxley, but if you want to remain in his good graces, I would suggest you drop ground rule number three.”
The tension in her jaw is visible from where I sit. I know this isn’t what she wanted to hear, but it’s also true. If anything, Huxley is a businessman first so he can remove emotion from business, which is why we’re so successful . . . something Kelsey needs to learn.
“Then maybe Breaker could do it.”
I chuckle. “Managing a certified organizer doesn’t fall under his scope of responsibilities. He’s the numbers guy. Organizing and managing the different properties isn’t what he does. Hate to say it, Kelsey, but you’re stuck with me.”
She crosses her arms at her chest and mutters something under her breath.
I move closer to her and say, “I didn’t quite catch that. Can you repeat it?”
She looks me dead in the eyes and says, “I despise you.”
“Now, now, now, is that something you should be saying to your employer?”
She stands from the chair, grumbling some more, and then puts her manicured finger on my desk. “From here on out, we adhere to the two ground rules. Do you hear me?”
“I do.” I smirk. “I hear you quite well.”
“And we’ll only talk to each other when we need to, and about business only. When Huxley and Lottie invite us over, I want you nowhere near me. Don’t even think about talking to me. Do you understand?”
“I’m practically shivering in my shoes.”
“JP, I’m being serious. Do you understand?”
Whatever caused this much animosity toward me must really be affecting her because I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone this worked up before, let alone Kelsey.
What’s behind this anger?
They always say there’s a thin line between love and hate—could it possibly be love?
I hold back my chuckle. Hell, if she heard what was going on inside my head right now, she’d have me hung up by the balls.
I think there’s one thing clear, though—she wants nothing to do with me. This entire conversation has made that crystal clear.
Smiling up at her, I say, “I understand you. And I look forward to our newly established working relationship where we don’t ever mention the hot date we went on or the way you shivered when I talked about your cunt, or how you secretly love it when I call you babe.”
There . . . just one more jab for the road.
She tosses her hands up in frustration, turns on her heel, and charges out of my office, slamming the door behind her.
That went exceedingly well.