Page 50 of The Grump I Loathe (The Lockhart Brothers #3)

BLURB

They say that diamonds are a girl’s best friend.

But the guy that sells those diamonds?

My worst enemy.

It took me precisely 0.1 seconds to start hating Cameron O’Connor.

I’m late to a job interview and it seems like kismet when a cab stops outside my apartment .

Until the grumpiest, grouchiest, and most outrageously handsome suit-hole steals it.

Of course, I get to my interview and who is behind the desk?

“You’re late. Couldn’t find a cab?”

This infuriatingly beautiful man makes my blood boil.

So I’m completely justified when I tell him all the ways his company is messing up their current PR disaster.

I wouldn’t touch this job—or the brutally chiseled bossbeast—with a ten-foot pole.

Until he offers me a number with more zeros than a box of donuts.

Now I’m working alongside the bosszilla.

Trying to keep the snark level to somewhere between brazen defiance and outright mutiny.

If only he hadn’t hired that influencer to promote the company’s engagement rings.

And if only she hadn’t announced that Cameron and I were hiding a secret romance.

Now suddenly, our relationship is all anyone can talk about.

Except there’s zero romance—we hate each other.

To sell the story, we have to go on fake dates… accompanied by fake kisses.

Only at some point, I don’t have to pretend anymore.

And I start thinking Cameron isn’t faking either.

Diamonds are forever, but will our love be as unbreakable?

There’s no way I’m falling for my bosshole.

Chapter One

Felicity

“Late, late, late,” I scolded myself as I dashed through the lobby of my building. “ Always late. When am I going to learn?”

I was wearing a black pencil skirt, which prevented me from breaking into a full-tilt run, and the heels I’d borrowed from my roommate, Nina, were shaped to her feet, not mine, and I kept worrying they were going to fall off.

I paused to glance in the giant gold mirror above the flower arrangement to make sure there was nothing in the teeth I’d forgotten to brush, making Carl the doorman laugh at me.

He’d worked in the lobby since I’d moved into Nina’s apartment, which meant he had a front row seat to the mess that was my life.

“Ya look gorgeous , as usual, kid,” he said, his Bronx accent bouncing off the walls. He slid out from behind the desk to beat me to the door. “Prettiest tenant in the building.”

I knew that was a lie, because the Central Park Tower was also the home of models, mistresses, and well-preserved ladies who lunch. It was a luxury building I had no business being in, all thanks to the rich aunt who’d left her apartment to Nina when she passed.

“You flatter me, Carl. I feel like a total mess.” I managed to grin back at him as I re-tucked the back of the fitted pink blouse into my skirt. “Hopefully I can fake it because this is an interview with Veritique. I really want this job! ”

And I really needed it, but I wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

My gig work as a marketing and PR strategist for small businesses was keeping my bills paid, but just barely.

I didn’t like looking at my bank account because the reality of how dire things were for me was always right there in black and white.

Living like this, as a freelancer with my fingers perpetually crossed until the next gig materialized, was too stressful for me.

I needed an income I could depend on—and hopefully one that would finally let me build up some savings for a change.

Then, Nina and I could finally start thinking about how to make our dream of starting our own bookshop a reality.

That’s where this interview came in. It was my ticket to stability, and eventually, my next big step.

“Well, then, best of luck,” Carl said as he reached for the door. He tipped his head at me wearing the tight smile I’d seen him use with the fancy folks in the building.

I wondered why he’d switched to being formal when we were used to gossiping and cackling together, but then I saw movement near the elevator out of the corner of my eye.

Someone was coming. Our casual friendship was probably considered outré by some of the snobs who lived here.

For my part, I didn’t give a damn what they thought of me, but I didn’t want to get Carl in trouble, so I followed his lead.

“Why, thank you, sir ,” I winked at him as I stepped out into the bright morning sunlight.

“Give ’em hell,” he whispered, making me laugh.

I felt like luck was shining on me as I stepped out into the late winter sun because someone was just getting out of a cab right in front of my building. Perfect!

I wasn’t usually that lucky—my life was more about near misses and almosts—but I intended to change that, and this interview was the way to make it happen .

“Taxi!” I screamed and waved my hand, even though the windows were closed and the driver engrossed in his phone.

I fumbled with my purse, making sure I’d remembered to grab my wallet so I could actually pay for said taxi. I was so busy digging through the massive thing I barely noticed the dark form striding past me. Until he knocked into me.

“Excuse me,” the deep voice said, somehow making it sound like I’d stepped in his way even though he’d drawn first blood. I stumbled a few steps.

“Yeah, excuse you,” I retorted, finding my footing and finally snagging my wallet. The sidewalk was huge, why the heck was he invading my space?

I realized why when he slid up to the cab.

Oh hell no. “Hey,” I shouted, indignant that he was going to try to steal my taxi. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He paused with his hand on the handle. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

The asshole didn’t even bother to turn to face me, like I didn’t warrant his full attention. The irritation practically dripped off of him, which made me even angrier.

“It looks like you’re trying to steal my cab,” I retorted, fuming. “I was here first.”

He finally let go of the handle and turned around so we could have a proper face-off. I got my first good look at him, and I had to ignore every impulse to gasp in shock.

Because the man was fucking gorgeous .

I’d initially thought, as I stared angry daggers at his back, that maybe all he had going for him was his height, but now I could see how wrong I was.

He was handsome in that haughty “don’t you know who I am” kind of way, like he was so good looking that getting what he wanted was a way of life.

Dark brown hair that managed to be styled but not fussy, a strong nose that was probably part of his generational wealth, passed down from father to son for ages, and a jawline any male model would kill for.

The suit was charcoal wool, and even though I wasn’t a fashion girlie like Nina, I could tell by the way it fit him that it was made to order.

He might have looked like he belonged on a movie poster if it weren’t for the judgey way he had of staring at me that made me feel like I’d just crawled out of a sewer even though I was as put together as I could manage.

“If you were here first,” he said in a tight voice, “then why are you still half a sidewalk away from the cab?”

“You…but I was…” I gestured around me, getting angrier by the second. “I know you heard me yell to the driver!” I shot back, loudly enough that a few passers-by turned to gawk at me. “Stop pretending you didn’t.”

“I don’t pretend,” he replied in a flat voice, face like he’d bitten down on a lemon.

Obviously. I couldn’t imagine him doing anything remotely creative or fun.

The guy looked miserable, and I had to wonder if it was his everyday expression, or if something terrible had just happened to him, like his latest supermodel canceling their date last minute.

Or his gigantic stock portfolio dipping one sixteenth of a percent.

“Doesn’t matter,” I slashed my hand through the air. “This is my taxi.”

We were now facing each other by the cab. He was back to gripping the handle, but I positioned myself so he couldn’t open the door without it crashing into me. Given the way he was glaring at me, I wouldn’t put it past him. I straightened my posture and glared back at him. Bring it, asshole .

Neither one of us said a word as we stared each other down.

The hairs on the back of my neck started to prickle, and I had to force myself not to lick my lips as his eyes bored into me.

Hazel eyes, I noted. Not green, not brown, but somewhere in between.

Like the algae that clung to the bottom of boats.

Or an oil slick in a puddle. He was clean-shaven, without even a hint of stubble, and I hated to admit that the man had gorgeous skin.

Probably got facials every week, I snorted to myself.

He was so handsome he almost didn’t look real.

Which made hating him even easier.

“I have somewhere to be.” He sounded exasperated, and as he let his eyes travel up my body, I could tell that he was silently judging me. “Somewhere important.”

As opposed to my minor, unimportant task of going on an interview for my dream job?

I narrowed my eyes. “Where do you have to be that’s important enough to make you act like a complete asshole ?”

His head jerked back in shock. Clearly, no one ever dared to talk to him like that.

“And why would I tell you that? Based on the way you’re spiraling about a cab I’m guessing you’ve got your own issues to worry about. There’s no need to concern yourself with mine.”

My blood went from a simmer to a full-tilt boil at his tone. The condescension! I was so furious I couldn’t even find words to express it. He took my silence as an opportunity to keep needling me.

“Since you seem to be in such a hurry, why don’t you tell me where you’re going?” he asked.

“A job interview,” I spat out, confident that it beat whatever dumb errand he was running .