“Because you're an employee. As I said, I know everything that goes on in my company. It's important I have the right people under me.”
My lips press together while I think about his last comment.
“I thought you didn't get involved in hiring. I thought it was all Meredith?”
Hunter tightens his grip on the wheel as he takes the corner fast. The speed jerks my body toward him, forcing me to grip the door for support.
“I guess when a certain Edwards applies for a role at your company and stays in your house, it's nice to know a little more about them, don't you think?”
I let out a shallow sigh. “Look, I don't particularly want to talk about my family. I'd rather people in the office don’t know who my father is.”
“I don't understand, Alexandra. You are the daughter of Lex Edwards?” he questions in a condescending tone. “What's there not to be proud of?”
“As I said, I don't particularly want to talk about it.”
Hunter doesn't press or ask any more questions, falling into a digestive silence for the remainder of the drive.
Thankfully, we pull into the familiar driveway as I breathe a sigh of relief. When we exit the car, Hunter enters the code to open the big glass doors. The lights are off, but upon our entering, they turn on, sensing us.
“Thank you for the ride.” I scratch the back of my neck, trying to ignore the awkward tension between us. Thank God I’m somewhat still buzzed because this could be way worse if I wasn’t. “I guess I'll see you in the office on Monday.”
He places his car key in his pocket, staring at me oddly.
“Hunter,” he says out of nowhere as we walk in. “You can call me Hunter.”
“Okay …” I stammer. “Hunter, it is. In the office, would you prefer it if I called you Mr. Cash like everybody else?”
Hunter rubs his chin with his hand, and the familiar smirk lingers on his lips. “Mr. Cash in the office is fine.”
“Well, since we're talking about names, you can call me Alexa. No one calls me Alexandra unless I'm in trouble.”
“Alexandra is a beautiful name. I'll stick to calling you that,” he insists.
My breath catches in my throat. I find myself unable to move, paralyzed on the spot, then I realize my silence has dragged on too long.
“It's fine. You can call me Alexandra. If that's what you want, Hunter.”
“That's what I want,” he answers in a strangled voice but then clears his throat. “At least, for now.”
My lips flatten thoughtfully before I turn my back and walk down the long corridor toward the guest wing. I’ve wondered which room he sleeps in, assuming it’s upstairs. Aside from April’s quick tour of the home, I’ve never gone up. April’s room, or should I say suite, is not far from the one I’m staying in. So, Hunter and Kathy’s room must occupy most of the second level like a penthouse or master quarters.
Inside my room, I shut the door behind me and lean against it trying to catch my breath. My heart is beating like a drum, unable to slow down in pace.
Out of nowhere, my head begins to spin from a combination of my night with Hunter and the multiple cocktails consumed at the party. To try to avoid being hungover tomorrow, I head to the bathroom for a quick shower.
I lingered way too long under the hot water, my fingers turning into prunes. When I finally get out and brush my teeth, I remember to take painkillers to avoid waking up with a headache.
My hands rummage through my bag, then drawer, but come up empty. Not wanting to go to the kitchen this late, I decide to just climb into bed instead. Whatever happens tomorrow can be tomorrow's problem.
It’s late, yet I’m far from tired. Hoping to find something to help me fall asleep, I reach for my phone on the nightstand to find something to watch.
The home screen has notifications from the group chat with my sisters and cousins. There’s message after message, and the last three lines said something about babies, losing my interest.
I click on my Instagram to notice the red arrow notifying me there are unread DMs.
Bromano:Nice of you to reply promptly.
My fingers type quickly to respond.