Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised when Faith’s eyes flare with anger. She’s got some spunk in her, but that’s just because she’s been raised with the world at her fingertips and has no concept
of reality. I may be a billionaire now, but I started from nothing, with no more than a dream and a hard work ethic, and that’s why I’m where I am today. Not because my daddy got me a job.
“I don’t think my dad would like you speaking to me this way.”
And there it is. No matter how hard these career women try to pretend that they can make it on their own, they always end up having their daddy (or sugar daddy) step in and solve their problems for them.
“So that’s all you are, huh?” I ask, stepping closer, getting right up in her pretty little face. Christ, her perfume smells delicious. I bet Andy was enjoying it too… “Just a wannabe woman pretending to be good at her job but ready to run back to Daddy whenever she can’t take the heat? Why don’t you do us both a favor and quit—”
When she slaps me, I’m stunned. Not because it hurts, but because I didn’t even see it coming.
She actually slapped me. Lance Frost, her goddamn boss.
And you know what, I don’t give a damn who her dad is; this girl is going to get it.
“My office,” I growl. “Now.”
FAITH
I REGRET SLAPPING LANCE INSTANTLY, and not just because of how much my palm stings as I follow him into his office. I lost my temper, and that’s something I never do. My dad and I both have them, but I’ve managed to keep my mine under control for the most part.
Until now…
I never expected his jaw to hurt my hand either. Sure, it’s chiseled like a male model’s, but seriously? Who does he think he is? Iron Man?
Part of me wants to just turn and walk the hell out as he leads me into his office, but the only thing worse than my dad getting me this job in the first place would be me not being able to hack it and quitting.
I’m an idiot. As Lance closes the blinds, separating us from the rest of the office, I’m sure he’s going to fire me. I just went too far. Slapping your boss? In what world is that okay?
When he turns around to face me, his eyes look like they’re ready to shoot out lasers and zap me into a pile of dust. At first I thought Lance was just a bit of a Scrooge, but now I see he’s the Grinch, ready to steal every ounce of Christmas happiness I have.
“That was a bold move,” he says slowly. A red mark is slowly forming on his cheek where I hit him. Butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach. It’s obnoxious how handsome he is. Like a Greek statue come to life. Maybe if he looked like the Grinch, it would be easier to hate him.
I shouldn’t have done that.
That’s what I want to say, but it’s pretty obvious he’s going to fire me, and if I’m going out, I’m going out in a blaze of glory.
“So was reprimanding me in front of the entire office,” I counter. “All over a Christmas tree that you don’t even care about?”
“What do you mean, I don’t care?”
“You’re about as into Christmas as the Grinch!” I reply. “You couldn’t care less about that stupid tree.”
“And neither could you, obviously,” he laughs. “So you just decided to put in the least amount of effort required to get the job done. Just like all you little rich girls.”
I could slap him again right now.
“You think you know who I am—”
“I know who your dad is,” he counters. “I know where you were raised. I know the kind of house you grew up in, and I know how you got this job and what you think of it.”
“What I think of it?” I snap. God, he’s infuriating. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He shrugs. “You clearly don’t give a fuck.”
Lance stretches both arms above his head, causing his shirt to slip up and expose his lower four abdominal muscles. He’s so defined that I can see veins leading down into his pants, as well as that V-shape that pulls at my eyes.
No. I fight the urge and quickly look up, hoping he hasn’t noticed my wandering gaze.