Page 64 of Positively Pricked

He sat, watching me, from his side of the desk. Behind him, the sky was blue with fluffy white clouds. But when it came to Zane, there was nothing fluffy abouthim. He looked hard and impervious, even as he studied my face with his usual cool detachment.

He never did answer my question. Instead, he casually informed me, "You start on Monday."

I made a scoffing sound. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"I haven't accepted."

"No. But you will."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"You want the blunt answer? Or the polite answer?"

I couldn’t help but smirk. "The polite answer."

"All right. You'll accept because it's a good opportunity, and you damn well know it."

"And that's thepoliteanswer?"

"Now, you want the blunt one?"

I wasn't so sure. And yet, I felt myself nod.

He said, "Your car's a heap. Your rent's chronically late. Your student loans are kicking your ass, and that extension you applied for last week? Let's just say, it's not gonna pan out."

My jaw dropped. Last Tuesday, in a fit of desperation, I'd applied for a hardship extension on my biggest student loan. As far as I knew, the application was still pending.

And now, he was telling me that it was going to be declined?

I felt my gaze narrow. "How do you know?"

"Guess."

I wanted to strangle him. "You didn't seriously sabotage me?"

"You think I wouldn’t?"

"Actually, I think you would, but I can't imagine why you'd go to that much trouble." I looked away and muttered, "Unless you'retryingto ruin my life." I was still looking away when the rest of his statement caught up with me.

I looked back to him and said, "Wait a minute, how did you know all that?"

"You think I'm gonna hire someone without checking them out?"

I was glaring at him now. "You had no right."

"Wrong," he said. "You gave me the right."

"I did not."

Again, he reached into his desk drawer. He pulled out another sheet and held it out in my direction.

I snatched it from his hand and looked down. It was a printout of an on-line application – one of many that I'd submitted over the last few weeks. But the application wasn't with Bennington Hotels. It was with one of the most exclusive hiring agencies in the whole city.

He said, "You see that box by your digital signature?"

I did see it. I'd agreed to a background check as part of the application process. Still, it felt like a dirty trick.