Page 16 of Bastard In A Suit, Vol. 3

Chapter 9

Onyx nuzzles into my neck, stretching his feline torso out across my chest. His purrs vibrate in my ear. I roll over, already sore from the lumps in my mattress, head pounding thanks to a heated argument from the TV upstairs.

Sunlight streams in through my thin curtains, making it impossible for an afternoon nap. This means I’m forced to replay the events of the past few days. Every. Single. One. God, what a bunch of drama. Between Duke and Jake and Forrest, I’m sick of the madness. Tired of men.

And if I’m being honest, I’m even too scared to go to the police station and see Jake.

I’m just drifting off when my cell starts ringing. I consider ignoring the call. It’s probably Forrest or Duke and I’m not in the mood to talk to either. I push Onyx aside, sit upright, and stare at the unrecognizable number. I answer on the fourth ring.

“Is this Hailey Yorke?”

Too late I realize this could be a reporter following up on The Guardian article. “May I ask whose calling?”

“Alan Prentiss over at FuturePlay,” he says.

My stomach does a somersault. Alan Prentiss is a legend in the tech world, creator of the world’s most popular tablet, and a serious rival of Duke and Kingston Industries. No way he’s calling me. This is obviously a joke.

“Sure,” I say. “Try again. I’m not that naïve.”

A deep chuckle resonates through the line. “Cautious,” he says. “I like that in a person. Listen, Hailey, I read The Guardian article this morning.”

My cheeks burn. “Not my finest moment.”

“Bad news for Kingston Industries,” he says. “But I’d argue against it not being good for you. The technology is sophisticated. Smart. I could use someone like you on my team.”

A lump forms in the back of my throat. “Are you offering me a job?”

My entire body tingles with anticipation. Alan Prentiss is an industry giant, on par with Steve Jobs. For Alan to call me personally—

Wow.

My head spins. It’s almost too surreal to believe.

“I’ve been in this business a long time, Hailey,” he says. “I know real talent when I see it.”

I swallow hard. “It’s tempting…” More than I’m willing to admit. Much as working for Kingston Industries seemed like a dream job, things are complicated now. My skills are wasted. “But there may be some contractual obligations…”

As if that isn’t an understatement. So far my attempts at getting out of my contract with Duke have proved fruitless. Asking again, in light of recent developments, probably wouldn’t end well.

“I anticipated that,” Alan says. “Leave it with me. I have an impressive team of lawyers.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Is that a yes?”

My chest tightens. “If you can get me out of my current contract with Kingston Industries, I’ll certainly listen to what you have to say.” A knock at my door diverts my attention. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

“We’ll be in touch soon,” he says.

Numb, I disengage the call. Duke will be sure to see this as another betrayal—but I would be stupid not to take the job. I’d be committing career suicide, actually.

Another knock. “I’ll be right there,” I yell.

I wrap myself in a cardigan and crack open the door. My breath hitches as I see him standing there, devastatingly handsome and sexy as always—yet still somehow surprising me.

“May I come in?” he asks.

I glance back at my apartment, embarrassed at my thrift shop furniture. It’s clean, save the dirty bowl and spoon after devouring another pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream, but still nothing like Duke’s penthouse suite. “Uh…sure.”