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Scrawling my signature on them, I said, “You’ve handled returning the gifts?”
“Of course, sir,” she paused, and then added, “Your mother called again.”
I grunted. “I’ll talk to her later.” In a year, maybe.
Mom hadn’t been the only person reaching out after the fiasco of my would-be wedding. Amelia had been worried enough when I didn’t answer her calls or respond to her texts that she’d actually called Drew. Because I hadn’t been taking his calls or texts either, he’d actually sent an email to my work address. He’d basically told me to get my head out of my ass. I deleted it without responding.
It was no surprise at all that my father hadn’t said anything to me since he’d left the non-wedding, and even then, he’d spoken to the entire family when he’d said he was going back to work since there was no point in staying. He hadn’t even told me that I should’ve known better. It’d been as if he’d felt what’d happened was lesson enough.
He was right. After all, how much worse would this be if I’d actually fallen in love with her?
“Is there anyone you do want me to put through if they call?” Anamaria asked.
“Business only,” I said briskly.
“All right.” She took the checks and started for the door. She hadn’t quite reached it when it flew open, and Jessica strode in.
She was dressed in skinny jeans, a white camisole and flashy, red lace jacket that made me want to see her wearing that and nothing else. For a split second, I almost forgot all the shit that had happened over the past forty-eight hours.
But then our eyes locked, and it all came flooding back along with new information I hadn’t registered while ogling her body. Her hair was in a simple ponytail and despite the make-up she wore, I could see dark smudges under her eyes as if she hadn’t been sleeping well either.
Except that didn’t mean it was for the same reason as me. For all I knew, she’d headed straight to another man’s bed and had spent the time since she ran out of me fucking some other guy.
“Get out,” I told her sharply. “And wear anything so unprofessional again, and you’re fired.”
She ignored me to look at Anamaria. “May I have a few minutes?”
“Of course, Ms. Ellis.”
“Anamaria—”
But she was already out of the office and closed the door behind her. I clenched my jaw as I looked at the woman standing across the desk from me. Unwanted, the memory of the first time we’d officially met came rushing back. How she’d stood there across from me, angry that I’d fired her friend, and told me off despite the fact that I was her boss.
“You’re a prick,” she said, voice cold and cutting. But her eyes burned, and two spots of color appeared on her otherwise pale cheeks.
My blood boiled and my dick pulsed, raging to full and ready attention. The physical reaction pissed me off as much as anything else and I responded by icing my voice down as I told her, “Get out. We have nothing to discuss.”
She didn’t move. “The fuck we don’t.”
“If this is about the email, you reneged on the contract—you don’t get shit.” I folded my arms over my chest.
“I gave you three fucking months.” Her eyes narrowed.
“And if you’d read the entire contract, you’d know that entitles you to nothing.” Leaning back in my chair, I tapped a finger on my thigh. “You could have turned down the proposal and we could have discussed the matter, worked things out. Written up a whole new contract rather than throw away all that work.”
She blanched and her eyes darkened, slid away. “There wasn’t anything a new contract would’ve fixed.”
There was an expression there that almost made me think something was wrong—that something was…no. This was all bullshit. I didn’t know her real motives, but I didn’t care. Whatever she’d been up to was over and I was done with her.
“Then, as I said, there’s nothing to discuss. You can leave now. Report to Drew—”
“Oh, likehellI will.” She came toward the desk.
My muscles tightened, everything in me ready to leap over the obstacle between us, grab her and bend over the desk. Spank her, then fuck her. Fuck her until she told me why the hell she’d done this when we had such a good thing going.
Closing my hand over the arms of the chair to keep me in my seat, I stared up at her. I normally would have stood to maintain the power dynamic, but I didn’t trust myself not to touch her, and one touch would undo me. The scent of her shampoo teased my nostrils, and it took more effort than I liked not to inhale, trying to imprint it on my lungs, my memory.
“This discussion is over,” I said tightly. I had to get her the fuck out of here, before I did something stupid, like kiss her. Like demand a fucking explanation. “You made your bed.”