Page 101 of The Payback Plan

‘Okay. Enough, bro. You’ve got your grump on, I get that. And usually I’m amenable to that, given… you know. But now you’re just being mean.’

Being scolded by Tej was like being scolded by your favourite school teacher, or your grannie. As someone who was almost singularly good-natured, it was the verbal equivalent of, ‘I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed.’

What was worse was that Tej was right. Chasewasbeing mean. He had absolutely no idea what kind of person Bella Carmichael was and he – of all people – wasn’t in a position to make assumptions.

Chase began to mumble something about a headache, but Tej pressed on.

‘Sheisqualified for the position, shedoeshave experience, Idohave faith that she is what we need, and I think that you will both work excellently together. And since she’ll be living next to you, I expect you to be on your best behaviour.’

Chase’s gut tightened as he side-eyed the boxes in the elevator beside him.

Shit. Fuck.Shit.

He glanced at the floor numbers on the elevator panel and only his floor was lit up.Hisfloor.

Theirfloor?

Oh God, this was bad.

‘Gotta go,’ Chase said, swiping across the phone’s screen and slipping it into the pocket of his gym shorts.

He bit his lip, mentally wincing. It was possible that the person behind the boxes, boxes usually used for moving things, like a person’s life into a new apartment,wasn’tthe person he’d just been mouthing off about.

Possible. But horrifyingly unlikely.

The elevator arrived at the floor and the doors opened.

‘After you,’ he said, voice gravelly from the guilt lining his throat.

The boxes rippled. Was he imagining things? Christ, he hoped so.

But as the boxes passed him, he caught a glimpse of a high cheekbone and a sleek blonde chignon.

Fuuuuuck.He inwardly groaned.

He ran his hand through his hair as he followed in her wake. There was no shaking this off.Christ, what had he called her? A pampered princess socialite?

He kept his eyes firmly above ass level as she walked straight over to the door opposite his and put the boxes down to reach for her key.

‘Do you need a hand?’ he offered reflexively before wincing at the look she gave him as she straightened up.

‘No,’ she answered. And then, as if absolutely incapable of stopping herself, she added a ‘thank you’, that was as much ‘fuck you’ as humanly possible.

There were slight traces of red slashes across her sharp cheekbones and he could see it. Why she’d made such an impact on him.

She looked him dead in the eyes.

Complex and varied shards of grey slammed at him like an assault. The flecks of gold both hot as fire and cold as ice, reminded him of Turner’sSnow Storm. Movement, slashes of anger, defiance, determination.

And for the first time in nearly twelve months his right hand twitched. The itch as if from a phantom limb, taking him wholly by surprise. He rubbed the back of his neck to buy some time as he gathered himself.

‘Look, I’m s?—’

The door slammed before he’d even finished the word.

And yes. He deserved that.

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