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Then I hang up and toss him his phone, praying he won’t check his call log.Chapter 20Ethan“I talked to your lovebird last night.”
“Excuse me?”
Isla chuckles. “I called your cell phone trying to reach you and your assistant answered instead. You can imagine how excited I was to—”
I hang up on Isla, suddenly furious.
A second later, a text pops up.
Isla: Did you just hang up on me or did the call drop? Either way, I didn’t get a chance to say we’re planning a Memorial Day Weekend trip to the campgrounds to visit you and see what you’ve been working on! Everyone’s in: Jace and Alice, Brody and Liv, Tanner…maybe Camille. I knew you’d say no if I asked you first, which is why I’m not asking. We’ll barbecue and camp out. It’ll be tons of fun!Ethan: No campout. No visit.Isla: Yes campout. Yes visit. Invite your assistant. She’s a lot nicer than you these days.Obviously, I’m getting nowhere with her, so I chuck my phone across my desk and stand. This week’s been crazy because we’re prepping for the foundation pour. There’ve already been a few hiccups, but Robert and Hudson have stayed on top of things and it should be smooth sailing into the weekend with no major issues to resolve before Monday.
Well, other than the brunette currently acting like a thorn in my side.
She’s outside with Robert and a few of the guys. She’s wearing a hard hat and a neon safety vest—the items I took from her on her first day, ones she apparently stole back.
Robert says something and nudges her with his elbow, and she throws her head back and laughs. Every single man in that group stops what they’re doing and watches her, dumbstruck, half in love already. Even Hudson is a simpering fool around her these days. Robert’s the only one who treats her normally, and that’s because he’s three times her age and thinks of her as a daughter.
I stomp down the steps of the trailer and make it halfway to them before Taylor notices me. Her smile fades and her eyes narrow with suspicion.
When I reach the group, my booming voice makes three guys jump out of their boots.
“I need a word,” I say, effectively parting the group in half.
I don’t take my eyes off her as the guys slink away quickly, more than happy to find that my ire isn’t directed at them.
Robert stays beside her. “Uh oh, what have you done this time?” he quips, shooting a teasing smirk at Taylor.
She returns it with one that sends my heart into overdrive. “Oh, who knows. It could be anything. Yesterday, he found a pair of my underwear accidentally mixed in with his laundry, and you should have seen his reaction. It’s like he’s never seen a pair of panties before.”
I was taken aback, that’s all. Can’t a man put away his laundry without having to come across a silky thong? So what if I stood motionless, holding it in my hand until Taylor walked out of the bathroom, saw me staring down at it, and quickly lunged over to snatch it out of my grasp.
Robert doesn’t give me the benefit of the doubt though, whooping and hollering like he’s never heard anything half as funny in his life.
I nail him to the ground with my gaze. “You done?”
He smirks, wiping tears from his eyes. “Oh, just about.”
“Taylor, you’re fired.”
I have to try it, at least.
That makes Robert double over in laughter yet again before he finally walks away and gives us privacy.
Goddammit, what has happened to respecting the boss around here?!
Oh right, Taylor happened.
She’s looking up at me, all big eyes and flushed cheeks beneath that ridiculous hard hat. There’s a smile playing on her full lips. She didn’t believe the You’re fired line any more than Robert did.
“I thought you’d be happy with me this afternoon,” she says, sounding sugary sweet. “I stole two cookies from the dessert counter at lunch for you. They had the most chocolate chips out of any ones I could find.”
“You answered my phone last night and talked to Isla,” I say, abrupt and curt.
Her smile drops, face pales, and she rushes to reply, “Not intentionally!”
“Right. I unintentionally answer someone else’s phone and talk to the person on the other end all the time.”
Her pleasant mood sours with my harsh accusation—and it is harsh, but then she deserves it for snooping into my personal life, for pushing my boundaries yet again. It seems we’re always here: at each other’s throats.
“I thought I made it clear: I let you borrow my phone so you could talk to your family, not mine. Find another phone to use from now on.”
Her face turns into a mask of anger and I can tell her hand is itching to reach up and slap me. I wish she’d do it. Then I really could fire her.
