Because maybe he hadn’t grown up yet.
Too bad for him, I would not be easily ruffled.
“Goodnight, Devi,” he said, his voice rough, in a way that made his words skitter up my skin. It was like I couldfeelhis voice on my body.
I fucking full-body shivered as he walked away, up the short hall to reception, his delicious cologne wafting into my office in his wake. It lingered like a bad omen in this place.
I inhaled it deep, loving the smell of it and hating myself for loving it.
Argh.Why did he have to be so fucking scrumptious?
Because he’s the devil.
It was just part of the whole package. I knew that. And damn, it was an effective one. I was pretty sure many women had tried, hard, to like him, even if they really hated him.
Or… didn’t even care that they hated him when they fucked him.
I checked the time. It was exactly nine-thirty-nine as I heard him clear out the front door.
I left at nine-forty-one.
No way was I leaving the office before him, but no way was I sticking around any later than I had to. These new office hours were bullshit. A little overtime was one thing. Being on call for my clients was part of the job. But this?
Maybe he, the illustrious Senior VP of Valhalla Media Group, needed to put in twelve hours a day to do his job.
I did not.
Right now, though, I could not afford for that man to sniff out a hint of weakness in me.
If that meant giving up sleep, food and my entire life outside this office, I’d do it if I had to. I would not let him see me sweat, worrying that my job might evaporate tomorrow because some spoiled rich kid I went to high school with grew into a spoiled rich man who didn’t like it when he couldn’t ruffle my feathers.
As I strode the two blocks to my car in the rain and the fresh air whipped me in the face, now that I was free of the office… it really pissed me off. Tossing that whole messed-up scene at our high school grad party in my face? Mentioning that kiss? Why? So he could attempt to assert his alpha male dominance, just like he tried to do that night when we were teenagers—and failed?
That night, I wasn’t even all that pissed. I was humiliated. I was embarrassed by the things he said to me. The way he treated me like I didn’t belong among his friends, as his best friend’s date. He tried to make me feel unwelcome. Unworthy.
And then he tried to kiss me, just to see if I would.
Or because he was horny and drunk and a teenager, and entitled up the ass.
Who knew?
Who cared.
I just wanted himgonein high-speed. Right now, this whole thing was moving in slow-mo, and it was killing me.
I could not rest tonight until I moved the needle forward on this.
So, I went home to change into a power outfit.
Chaz and I rented a condo by the water downtown, in Yaletown; it was just a short drive over the Cambie Bridge, and then I was digging through my closet with a vengeance. I slid into a little figure-hugging dress in violet; wool skirt on bottom, leather with an asymmetrical zipper on top and a subtle pop of cleavage.
“See you later,” I huffed as I stalked past the living room, where Chaz was spilled across the couch, eating something and watching reality whatever. “Probably tomorrow.”
“Oooh, late night,” he said, lowering the volume with the remote. He looked over at me as I was slipping on my sexy boots and added, “Who’s on the receiving end?”
“Huh?” I looked up, annoyed, though not with him. “Receiving end of what?”
“That.” He swished his hand up and down, indicating my dress and… me.
