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Didn’t I just talk myself out of pursuing her?
So, why is she all I can think about?
“She’s a pain in the ass,” I mutter loudly.
The woman using the weights to my left shoots me an indignant look.
I ignore it. Halley is so damn loud and all over the place, and she doesn’t listen to me—well, that’s not exactly true, she is really good at following instructions, but she doesn’t listen to me about general things.
Even my excuses are sounding so stupid, I grumble to myself.
She’s very young, I tell myself.
Four years younger than me.
Which isn’t exactly a massive age difference, my traitorous mind informs me.
She’s also my subordinate and what kind of message does that send?
However, wasn’t that how Kendall and Caleb got together? Although to be fair, my brother-in-law hired her for the exact purpose of getting her into his bed and his life.
I grab my things and head to the shower, all the while trying to remind myself I had given Halley a clear answer on my position that I wasn’t looking to get involved with a woman and she hadn’t seemed very interested in me either.
This thought makes me feel a little sour.
I wash my hair with vigor, my movements agitated.
It’s not like I have time in my life for a woman anyways. I stand by what I said to her. Even if she is hot and smart and I find myself wondering what she’s up to every time she’s out of my sight—
I curse when the shampoo slips into my eyes.
Pain in my ass, indeed.
I glance at the clock before turning on the TV.
Sure enough, Hashem’s death has made the news.
I can’t find it in myself to spare a shred of remorse over the death of the despicable man. He’s been responsible for ruining so many lives.
After Oliver cleaned house, he might have gotten rid of most of the men like Hashem but he could never find enough on my boss to stick. And while I had cooperated with Lana on exposing a lot of people when she had come to me, Hashem had been one of the most careful men I had come across.
My lips purse.
Run over by a car. He should have rotted in prison instead.
Ordering a pizza, I shoot another look at the clock and wonder if Halley is done with her shopping.
“So what if she dresses like a color explosion,” I mutter to myself. “It suits her. She doesn’t have to change.”
Feeling unsettled, I get up to make myself a cup of coffee. “Who’s she dressing up for anyway?”
My hands freeze on the coffee grinder at the thought.
Is Halley interested in someone at the office?
I don’t know why the idea makes me want to smash the coffee grinder against the wall but it takes a lot of effort to rein myself in.
What do I care who she likes or not?
