Work is brutal and made even more so by the absence of my favorite distraction. I don’t know how much more I can take before I decide to run. With thugs on my heels for my stepfather’s debt, maybe it’s wise to leave as soon as possible with the money in the safe which is my paychecks I’ve never been able to collect. My luck my father would have me arrested for embezzlement if I take it. I’m just grateful he hasn’t tried to break into that one. Although I do have it hidden.
****
It’s been two days since I’ve last seen the handsome Professor, as Ella calls him. Although something screams in my head that he’s most definitely not a teacher, but I’d love for him to instruct me and my body, over and over.
He hasn’t come in since I lost my temper with him. I regret it, even if he was a jerk and deserved my anger. A part of me felt like his presence eased my shitty day, making it a treat to feel special. Yes, men hang around, trying to get my attention, but it’s like he wanted my attention but didn’t at the same time. It makes me insane because it only adds to the damn stress that the café already brings to my life.
I drop my head on the stack of papers in front of me. After seeing my stepfather looking like he got a beating, I know he’s been lying to me about the money. I’ll never get out of this without selling the place.
Tears fill my eyes, and I reach for a tissue to wipe them when I notice a shadow at the office door. I look up, hoping it’s my stepfather and that it’s not at the same time. I’m shocked to see my rude, handsome big tipper.
“We’re closed. There’s no coffee right now,” I explain when it strikes me that the café’s been closed for three hours. “Wait! How did you get in here? I’m sure I locked the door.”
“I own this place,” he says with a straight face, looking around the room with distaste. His smug face returns to mine and there isn’t an ounce of humor in it. He’s in a tailored three-piece suit, looking ever the professor, or more like a male model. I want to crawl up his body and smack him at the same damn time.
“Have you lost your mind? You don’t own this place.” I run my eyes down to make sure he’s not carrying a weapon, and then I see his busted knuckles that are starting to heal. “Where did you get those from?” A sense of dread fills me since I’m sure I already know the answer.
“So I’m here to make sure the books are accurate and the company finances are spot on.” He ignores my question, refusing to even look in the direction I’m pointing. His sexy eyes never leave mine for a second.
“Who are you?” He waltzes in here with a different attitude than the previous days. It’s almost as if he’s a different person although my heart’s still fluttering the same way it does whenever he’s around. The prick.
He twists the side of his mouth into a wry smile. “I suppose that’s important. I’m Niccolò Bianchi. Like I said before, I’m the new owner.”
The blood rushes to my ears and my face flushes with anger as I digest his words. “Bullshit. My stepfather couldn’t sell my share of this company,” I inform him. Although I wouldn’t put it past my stepfather, I still have the law on my side.
“Well, technically, you both did. Although I’m guessing this isn’t your signature, then?”
He shows me a document with my signature on it, but I’m certain that I didn’t sign my property rights over to anyone. “That’s mine. How?” Paling, I hold the paper, nearly crumbling it in my hand as I shake.
“Your father’s a piece of shit.” I look up at him and see a sense of remorse in his eyes like he feels guilty for scamming my stepfather out of our business. Either way, I am not taking this handsome fucker’s shit.
Standing up, I take it and rip the document in half in front of him. He scowls and shakes his head, but I don’t care if he likes it. “Still, it’s not legal, so you have to go.”
“You’re cute when you’re angry. As it is, I don’t have to go anywhere. I might not have the rights to your half, but I have his,” he reiterates
“Probably gotten under duress, making the contract void,” I say with pride, having learned that much in school.
His lips twist up into a smirk. “You’re smarter than they give you credit for.”
Did he just call me stupid? “Fuck you. You have to leave.”
“No, I don’t have to leave, and I sure as fuck won’t. Now watch that pretty mouth of yours.”