Page 129 of Positively Pricked

Chapter 43

I felt sweaty and worn out – partly from the walk and partly because I was more confused than ever.

Seeing Zane standing there didn't help.

And of course,hedidn't look sweaty or worn out. No. Not him. He looked cool and determined, even as he stood, with arms crossed, facing the door to my hotel room.

Where his room was, I had no idea, but it didn't take a genius to know that it was surely located a lot higher up than mine.

In fact, come to think of it, he had a penthouse in New York. Was it right here? In this hotel?

Probably.

Well, goodie for him.

I'd just rounded the corner, and so far, he hadn't spotted me – or so I thought, until he turned his head slowly in my direction. At something in his expression, I felt myself swallow.

He looked pissed off, and not just a little.

But so what?

I was pissed off, too, and not because of anything I'd heard during my dinner with Teddy. Rather, it was the other dinner – the one Ididn'tget to eat – that was fueling my current hostility.

To think, I'd been taken to the top of the world, charmed for like ten whole minutes, and then dismissed like some kind of temporary seat-warmer.

In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder how much worse I'd be feeling now – or heaven forbid, tomorrow morning – if I'd been stupid enough to succumb to Zane's shallow charms.

I almost scoffed out loud. I didn't need to wonder. If I truly wanted to know, I could ask Tiffany or a dozen other girls, including the one he'd ditched in Kalamazoo.

The jerk.

Almost before I knew it, I was marching forward even as he strode toward me, meeting me more than halfway. I stopped within slapping distance and glared up at him to ask, "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting."

"For what?"

"You," he said. "Now, tell me something."

I almost laughed out loud. Oh, there were plenty of things I could tell him. But none of them were fit for public consumption. So instead, I crossed my arms and said, "What?"

"Your job – did you quit?"

What the hell?

I practically snorted in disbelief. "Sothat'swhy you're here?" I tried for another laugh. "Well, I guess that rules out apology-number-five."

"Just answer the question."

I didn't feel like doing anything he asked. So instead, I gave him a taste of his own medicine. Lowering my voice to match his, I mimicked, "My job – am I fired?"

He looked anything but amused. "Is that a serious question?"

Was it?I honestly didn't know.

When I said nothing in response, he gave me a hard look. "And how was Teddy?"

I froze. "What?"