Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Except now I have to wonder if Michelle ever truly was happy.
“She was my wife,” I reply curtly, clearly implying I’m unamused over her curiosity into my personal life.
“Oh,” she says with confusion. “Was?”
“She’s dead,” I state flatly.
“Oh my God,” she exclaims, but then claps a hand over her mouth. When she removes it, the sympathy in her voice is unbearable to me. “I am so sorry.”
My voice is flat in return. “Why? You didn’t know her.”
If she’s taken aback by my rudeness, she doesn’t show it. Her expression stays sorrowful, and her words make me feel like I’m touching a live electrical wire. “I’m sorry because it must have caused you pain.”
There’s a tiny part of me that’s sorry for what I’m about to do. She doesn’t deserve to feel the brunt of my rage, but it is indeed rage I’m overwhelmed by. Anger and fury at Michelle for doing what she did, with equal parts directed at me for not being able to save her. And there’s even a tiny bit directed at Hannah for bringing this shit up.
My inability to control these feelings is something I’ve struggled with over the years. The only thing I can do in moments like this is reassert my control of the situation. It’s the only way to overcome feelings of vulnerability, which I detest.
I let my gaze slide nonchalantly back to my computer screen, but I lace my voice with pure steel. “I want you at The Wicked Horse this Saturday evening. There’s a special event I want you to attend with me.”
I’m being truthful. Jerico is unveiling a new sex machine he had specially made, and I’m more than anxious to see it. Can’t wait to put Hannah on one of the specialty toys in the club.
“Sorry,” she demurs with her hands now gently clasped in front of her. “But I can’t work on the weekends. I told you that.”
“You can have Friday off in Saturday’s place,” I tell her with a magnanimous nod of my head.
“No,” she replies firmly. “I need Saturday and Sunday off. That was our deal.”
“I’m changing the deal.” My chin tilts up, and I give her a cold smile. “I’ve paid you a lot of money already, and I’m quite confident you’re making more than you ever have before for far less hours. Are you really going to give that up?”
I expect her to drop her gaze, hunch her shoulders, and submit to me. Instead, she raises her chin higher than mine. “Yes. I’ll regretfully have to give it up. I can’t be available to you on the weekends. It’s just not possible, so if you have to fire me for it, I understand.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I growl as I push up from my chair to press clenched fists into my desktop. She’s thwarting my efforts at taking back control. “What could be so goddamn important you’d give up this type of money for so little effort on your part?”
Hannah’s golden-brown eyes darken as if they’re filled with malevolent shadows. As she leans across my desk to get in my face, she snarls right back at me as. “I think my effort at my job is stupendous—or at least the way you call my name out when you come seems to indicate it is. But your money will never be as important as my freedom on the weekends.”
The gritty determination in her tone gives me pause, making me curious. “What exactly is so important about your weekends?”
“I spend them with my daughter.”
I jerk back, stunned by this revelation. “Daughter?”
She ignores my request for a clarification. Instead, she coldly says, “I busted my ass at three jobs so I could make enough money to hire an attorney to fight for custody of my daughter. So while the money you pay me to do this is incredibly important, I’ll go back to working three jobs before I’ll give up my weekends with my kid.”
Well, shit. That knocks the wind out of my sails. I’d never ask her to give that up. I might be a douche a lot of the time, but I do still have a moral compass.
“Why don’t you have custody?” I ask. Well, more like demand.
Hannah grimaces. “Because the judge was a golfing buddy of my ex-husband’s, and I didn’t have the means to hire a very good attorney to represent me when we split.”
Rage hits me again, except this time it’s all for Hannah’s ex. I feel an overwhelming desire to hunt this man down and beat the shit out of him.
The judge, too.
Pushing those insanely inappropriate protective feelings aside, I stand once again and grab my phone from the desk. “You can add my office to your regular schedule of cleaning. I’m going to work the rest of the day at my office.”