“Pain in the ass, sneaky, pushy, nosy asshole!”
Hayden chuckled. “What do you want to do?”
“I have to get to my interview,” I growled, pulling my blazer on over my silk blouse. “I’ll talk to him when I leave.”
“Okey doke.”
Hayden closed my door, and I went about finishing what I was doing.
Let Flash wait.
Dick.
I pulled my hair in a braided bun at the base of my skull and shoved a thousand bobby pins into it, hoping it would stay put. I was both blessed and cursed with thick, curly, red hair that had a mind of its own most days. Now if I could just find a way to hide my freckles, I’d feel like I could rule the world.
I shook off my insecurities and grabbed my heels. I usually drove in flats to avoid damage to my only pair of expensive shoes, so I grabbed my purse and carried that and my shoes downstairs.
“Tate,” Flash said as he stopped his pacing in the foyer.
“I don’t have time for you,” I snapped, sliding my feet into my tennis shoes.
“Just give me five minutes.”
“I don’t have five minutes,” I said, pulling open the door and stepping outside.
Flash followed and I locked the door.
“I didn’t sleep with Madison Payne,” he blurted.
I hissed, spinning to face him. “You’re a fucking liar.”
“I’m not. Swear to Christ, Tate. I have never—wouldnever, fuck that woman.”
I jabbed a finger into his chest. “Isawyou.”
“I don’t know what you saw or what you think you saw, but it wasn’t what you thought you saw.”
“I don’t have time for this, Flash. I have an interview. Save your story for someone who cares.” I hurried to my car and hit the key fob to unlock it.
“Dinner!” he called.
“What?”
“Let me take you to dinner tonight.”
I pulled open my door. “No.”
“Yes,” he insisted. “Six.”
I looked at my watch. “I might not be home by then.”
“Seven.”
“I have to go,” I growled, sliding into my car.
“I’ll be here at seven!” he called as I pulled out of my driveway.
I flipped him off, but he just laughed.
