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“Oh, sorry about that,” Ursula mutters as she looks down at me, not sorry in the least, judging by the smug expression on her face. Like she knew exactly what the thing meant to me.
Fuck. This. Shit. I will never again let someone make me feel like I’m not good enough.
“What time did you say that board meeting was?” I ask, swallowing back my tears as I look up at this evil woman with my own haughty expression.
“Saturday. Six o’clock,” she tells me with a pinched look on her face, like she just sucked on a lemon.
“Excellent. Tell the board we’ll be there. And that we’re not going down without a fucking fight, so those dickless, spineless pieces of shit damn well better brace themselves.”
Chapter 23: Am I in the Fucking Twilight Zone?
“Everything’s going to be fine. You guys are brilliant, and I’m sure you’ll be able to fix this problem. You know I’m here for you if you need help with anything,” Eric tells me as he turns into a gated community on the outskirts of town. My palms start to sweat.
I didn’t go into great detail with him about what happened yesterday with Ursula. I was too pissed off to do anything other than stomp around the kitchen, slamming cupboards and muttering every curse word I could think of, in between shoveling Hostess cupcakes in my mouth. All I told Eric was that there was a snafu with some of our business paperwork. It felt wrong to give him all the information when I haven’t even told Cindy and Belle yet.
I will. I just need to get through this brunch first. One crisis at a time.
“Jesus Christ, your mom lives here all by herself?” I ask, staring with my mouth hanging open at the sprawling house with a white limestone façade in front of us as Eric pulls into the circular drive, complete with a white marble fountain in its center.
There’s an actual dome up on the roof above the entry, with figures carved into it from Greek mythology. A dome. This house is easily twenty thousand square feet, and I swallow down the lump in my throat as I look up at it.
Really, it feels like a disservice to call it a house. It’s a mansion. A fucking palace. A huge stone structure with more windows than I can count and an attached four-car garage.
“Yes,” Eric laughs, reaching over and grabbing my hand when he shuts off the engine. “Well, she has a live-in maid, a house manager, and a groundskeeper, so she’s never really by herself.”
Good God almighty, I am out of my element.
I knew Eric came from money. Shit, I know he has money, but this is more than I even imagined. There are marble pillars on the front porch. Fucking pillars. I wouldn’t get splinters in my ass if I shimmied up those pillars like I did on my front porch when the sheriff came to kick me out, that’s for sure.
I laugh at the thought of me climbing up those things in the dress I’m wearing.
“Are you okay?” Eric asks, tugging my hand over and placing a kiss on it.
“I’m just wondering if I’m dressed appropriately. I’m thinking maybe a ball gown and a tiara might have been more appropriate. Maybe with a fur cape and one of those fancy scepter things,” I mutter, dropping Eric’s hand to get out of his SUV.
Eric meets me on my side of the vehicle, sliding his hands over my hips and linking his fingers together against my lower back.
“You could be wearing one of my T-shirts and nothing else and you’d be perfect,” he says, smiling down at me. “But I have to say, this dress is doing things for me. I’m already thinking about dragging you into the office, making you call me sir, and bending you over the desk.”
My skin heats just thinking about what he’s saying, and I playfully shove my palms against his chest. After an hour-long video phone call with Cindy last night, during which I dragged out every article of clothing I owned, she finally decided I should wear the green-and-black sheath pencil dress I’ve currently squeezed myself into.
I bought it to wear when I went into work at my store a few years ago and haven’t looked at it since. It clings to my curves and shows off my hourglass figure, the hem stopping right above my knees. With small capped sleeves and a square neckline, I’m showing the tiniest hint of cleavage, but nothing porn star-ish, since brunch at a fancy mansion with Eric’s mother didn’t seem like an appropriate time for my boobs to be hanging out. The sleeves of the dress are black, as are the sides all the way down to the hem, while the rest is emerald green. Cindy called it my power color. It matches my eyes, and when I tried it on for her, she could immediately see confidence shining all over my face.
