“What are you talking about?” I ask, hope lighting my chest. She must have good news based on her tone.
“You've just been awarded a scholarship that pays for your remaining tuition!”
“What?” I’m so shocked I almost drop my phone. “Wait, did I even apply for any more scholarships?”
“No!” she chirps cheerily. “This wasn’t a scholarship you had to apply for. It's a merit-based one that the donor privately selected, and he picked you.”
My senses are instantly on alert when I hear the pronoun “he,” and somehow, I already know the answer before I ask. “And just who is the donor of the scholarship?”
“Warren Foxworth,” she announces proudly.
My world comes to a halt as his name buzzes inside my head. I vaguely register the sound of my advisor babbling on about how I must be doing such a good job at the internship that Mr. Foxworth decided to pay for the remainder of my education. “He's already taken care of your current balance.”
“Come again?” I ask.
“Oh, yes, dear. He's already paid off your current balance. You're going to begin your career completely debt-free, and it looks like you'll already have a job set up.” She laughs happily. “Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it!”
“I'm sorry. I have to go.” I tell her.
“Of course. Congratulations, Faith!” She's completely none the wiser at my plight. She probably thinks that I’m getting ready to celebrate with joy when it's really just the opposite.
Fire is pumping through my veins. I'm angrier than I ever remember being in my entire life—especially when I check my bank account on a hunch and see all the fat zeroes now in my balance.
If this doesn't prove another reason why I absolutely should not get involved with Warren Foxworth. He thinks he can buy people off. I’m so hot I’m surprised smoke isn’t fuming from my ears like it does in those Looney Tunes cartoons.
If he thinks he's some sort of sugar daddy and I'm going to be his sugar baby, that he's going to pay for my tuition and give me fancy gifts and I'm going to sleep with him, then he's got another thing coming.
I march all the way to Foxworth Industries, my rage fueling every step. The closer I get to Warren’s high rise, the more indignant I get.
I stomp my way through the lobby and over to the elevator, pressing the button that takes me up to the highest floor where his office is located. When I get there, I march right past his sputtering secretary, who jumps up with a panicked look on her face when I head for his office door.
“Miss! You can't just go in there!”
I ignore her and fling his door open.
Warren is sitting behind his desk. His jet-black hair falls in that carelessly disheveled way it does. His lips are sinfully plump for a man, and that bit of stubble that he can't ever seem to shave off shadows his jawline.
He stands to his full height, his eyes flashing blue fire and a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes sweep over me.
He seems completely unsurprised to see me here, the cocky bastard.
“I'm sorry, sir!” his secretary sputters behind me. “I tried to stop her…”
“It's okay, Georgina,” he tells her without ever taking his eyes from me. “You may leave now. Miss Ellison and I have some things to discuss.”
For some reason, hearing him call me “Miss Ellison” to someone else infuriates me. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, so it's Miss Ellison now?”
His grin stretches into a full smile as he begins stalking over to me. “I'm so glad you came to see me, Faith.”
“You know why I'm here.” I lift my chin and stare daggers at him. “I can't be bought.”
His brow furrows. “I'm not trying to buy you. I'm just trying to get your attention, and I'll do whatever it takes.”
“Take your money back,” I grit out firmly, my hands balled into fists at my sides. “I don't want it.”
“Well, I want you to have it,” he quips at me.
“I don't need it,” I fire back.