He pulls me closer and wraps his arm around me to keep me warm. If I weren’t paralyzed, I’d stop him.
I want to slap him—at least as hard as Carmen did—but damn him, I need the warmth.
The valet fetches the car in record time. At least one thing goes right.
I get in the driver’s seat without another word. Nick slides in the front with me, and I do a double take.
“Oh, no. You, back, now.” I stab a finger at him through the air with every word.
“Reese, hear me out—”
“I don’t want to! Not tonight. Just...be honest with me. Was I here to make your ex jealous? Is that why you kissed me?” I’m shaking, clenching the wheel so hard my knuckles ache.
He lets out a slow, brutal sigh.
“No. Of course not. I don’t give a shit about her anymore,” he says, raking a hand through his hair. Then he adds, more quietly, “I’ll admit I did want a date so there’d be no mistaking the fact that it’s over between us. She won’t accept the brush-off, so what’s the harm in twisting the knife?”
“What’s the harm?” I cluck my tongue, breathing pure fire through my nostrils. “So that’s a yes, and I...I cannot believe you pulled this shit.”
Long pause.
“It’s not the same thing, Reese,” he says miserably. “I wanted a date so she’d know I wasn’t here for her. I wanted to be there with you—”
“Save it. Please? I don’t want to hear about it and I just want to go home.” I let out a groan. “Hell! If I’d known this was your plan, I would’ve asked for twenty thousand.”
“It’s yours,” he says.
Yeah.
This is not going well.
He’s missing the whole point. I’m not sure the words exist to make it with this self-absorbed ass of a boss, a date, a human being.
Ironic laughter bursts out of me until I gag. “That doesn’t make it better...”
He’s quiet for a minute. “How angry are you? Scale of one to ten?”
“Ninety!” I spit back, pulling out of the cursed lot and trying to focus on the road ahead. “I hate you. You’re the most disgusting, selfish person I’ve ever met, and I grew up in a horrible foster system full of crazies, so—”
“Reese—” he starts.
I’m not done.
“Let me finish,” I snap. “I still need this job. I really need this job. My sister always spends more than she makes, and I help take care of my niece. I’m finally able to do that comfortably with this salary for the first time since...well, ever. So, I’m hoping if I never mention how much I hate you again, and you never mention this godawful joke of a date again, I can keep working. I mean, I’ll try, assuming whatever bombs are about to be lobbed into my life from whoever blabs about that scene. Fair enough?”
“Reese...let me explain,” he says, his voice raw, pleading.
“Just answer my question. I don’t want explanations, boss.” The last word comes out like a curse. “Will you promise not to mention this ever again, or do I need to send your grandma my resignation tonight?”
He straightens, squaring his shoulders, looking at me quietly like I punched him in the face. It’s what he deserves.
“You’d rather quit your job than let me apologize?” he asks.
I sigh, my eyes fluttering shut a second too long. “Yes. Yes, you jackass. I swear to God, if you make me, I’ll work two full-time jobs to make the same money. I’ll drive sixteen-hour days, up and down this continent, just so I don’t have to listen to one more word of your—your bullshit. Yes.”
He turns, staring out the passenger window, this creeping darkness shadowing his face.
So, if I’m about to get fired, at least I’ll go out in style.
“I won’t mention it again,” he says firmly. “You have my word.”
I nod weakly, clearing my throat to say, “One more thing.”
“Another demand?” He smirks, but this time it’s not playful.
It’s frustrated and cruel and makes me feel so small I almost pitch him out on the side of the highway.
“Don’t talk to me like that. I could just disappear and give those stupid reporters my side of the story. I bet that Osprey guy would chew it right up.” I regret the threat as soon as it’s out of my mouth, but it works.
I think.
His eyes grow sadder, more defeated. “Are you going to do that to me? Throw me to those rumor-spinning chucklefucks?”
“Probably not, but just...stop requesting unnecessary rides. I don’t want to see you unless it’s absolutely necessary for a meeting or whatever,” I say. “I’ll do my job. You’ll do yours. Nothing more.”
“I don’t request rides I don’t need,” he throws back, glaring.
Then his shoulders fall, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
I don’t have the heart to argue my point.