AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Karma doesn’t want her to move out. She’s threatened to leave a few times, but Karma keeps her wings around her like a damn mother hen.”
I barked out a disbelieving laugh.
“So wait, let me get this straight. You won’t pay her full salary because she lives at home, but she only lives at home because your wife won’t let her leave?”
Tommy rubbed at his forehead.
“Yeah, basically.”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” I mumbled, picking up the glass paperweight on his desk. “Talk to the girl before you lose her. Either that or talk to your wife and get on the same fucking page.”
Tommy rolled his eyes, but didn’t disagree.
I tossed up the glass ball and caught it again; the cool, smooth weight felt nice in my hands.
“How’re things with Angel and Kevin?” he finally asked, trying to change the subject.
“Fine. They’re hard workers,” I told him.
I left out the little part about Angel flaunting her boobs all over the place, because that was a fucking odd thing for a guy to complain about.
“Good, good. And how is your leg and your head?”
I shrugged.
I’d had a pulsing headache since I’d woken up, but my hip only hurt when I did a deep lunge or laid directly on it. My calf and thigh were basically all healed up.
“I’m good.”
Tommy nodded, his attention already diverted back to his computer screen. And, that seemed as good of a reason to fuck off as any.
I set the paperweight back on his desk and went out the door, shutting it behind me only to see the office next door was open, with things being slammed about inside.
I gingerly made my way over, peeking in through the door to see Freya there, flopping stacks of papers around the place, moving things needlessly around, likely just to keep her hands busy.
I lifted my knuckles and knocked on the open door.
She spun toward it, fury staining her cheeks pink.
“What?” she demanded, plopping her ass into her chair.
I just smiled at her, which seemed to infuriate her even more.
“I swear, if you don’t say your piece and go, I’m spitting in your sandwich.”
When I just shrugged at her threat, her eyes lit up with flames.
“I’ve had a whole lot worse than a little spit, kiddo,” I told her, fanning the fire.
“Just get out, Ashton,” she whispered, leaning back into her chair before she spun so her back was facing me and she was staring at the blank white wall.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, sitting in the quite uncomfortable chair across the desk from her.
“Nothing,” she denied.
“Something’s going on. You look like you’re about to combust, steam coming out of your ears and everything.”
That was all it took for her to spin around and slam her palms on the desk.
