AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fuck you,” she seethed from between gritted teeth. “I worked my ass off for this shit. I’m not leaving without it.”
“You worked for it?” I repeated incredulously. Then I snorted. “Yes, I can imagine breaking in was incredibly exhausting for you. But some people still consider it stealing, sweetheart. So drop the bag.”
“Except I cleaned a goddamn stain on the floor for it,” she argued, glaring at me. “So I actually earned it. Sweetheart.”
Okay, that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. I shook my head. “You did what?”
She sighed as if irritated by my lack of understanding. Then she flailed out her free hand helplessly. “There I was, just walking down the hallway outside this apartment, minding my own business,” she started.
To which I muttered, “I’m sure.”
“I was!” Narrowing her eyes, she continued, “But then the woman who lives here—your wife, or whoever.”
“Not hardly,” I answered dryly.
Sighing out an annoyed frown, she went on again. “Well, whoever she was, she opened the door, mistook me for—for a maid and—”
“A maid?” Pulling back, I scanned her from head to toe and sniffed bitterly. “You?” With a body like hers, she was more suited for a model’s career.
A rosy flush stained her cheeks. Flustered, she stammered a moment before saying, “Well, I wasn’t wearing this at the time.”
“Obviously.” That part I fully believed. “Because it’s not yours.”
I knew for a fact that no one else could own a dress like the one she currently wore. It was the original prototype we’d just created at JFI. The design had recently passed the production stage, and the first release of any copy wouldn’t hit stores until early next year. And it was the only dress I’d ever designed.
Usually, I stuck to my own department and sketched shoes. But for some reason, an idea for this dress had hit me, and I was damn proud of how it’d been accepted by both Nash and Lana for production.
The girl in my arms was literally wearing a one-of-a-kind. So I couldn’t conceal a smirk when her blush darkened as she cleared her throat and quickly glanced away.
“Anyway, where was I?”
“Being mistaken for a maid,” I reminded her helpfully.
“Oh, yeah. Right.”
“Which I still don’t buy,” I added smugly.
She huffed through a growl and bit out, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m half Latino.”
Well, that was random. I shook my head, really confused now. “Your point?”
She lifted her eyebrows meaningfully as if that should suddenly make everything abundantly clear to me. Then she stressed, “My dad’s from Venezuela.”
“Again,” I said, lifting my eyebrows right back at her. “Not seeing a point.”
“Well, maybe it’s also escaped your attention then that every single fucking employee in this bigoted building is of Hispanic descent, but it hasn’t escaped mine. So, why wouldn’t your wicked witch of a lady friend think I was the help?”
“André’s not Hispanic,” I said logically.
“André’s an asshole.”
“French, actually, I believe.”
“Oh my God!” She lifted her hands incredulously. “Are you always this damn annoying?”
Annoying? Huh. “No one’s ever called me annoying before.”
She set a hand on her hip and eyed me dryly. “You must not get out much.”
