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I work uninterrupted for the next six or so hours and by the time people are packing up, I’m exhausted but satisfied. I got a lot done today, and most importantly, I almost forget about Maddox and the cursed kiss.
That is until I turn around and nearly walk straight into a wide-barrel chest.
I jump back before I do, staggering to maintain my balance.
.
“Shit. Do you get a kick out of doing that?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes.”
He also seems to be enjoying my irritation but I’m determined not to stand by anymore and continue to be his object of amusement. I ignore him, moving to sidestep me but he catches me around the waist, stopping me in my tracks.
I gasp in outrage and try to remove myself from his hold but his arm is like a vice. A strong stupid vice that’s enjoying his game too much.
He cocks his eyebrow as though daring me to try to break his hold even though we both know I can’t.Bully. I bite back the anger that’s urging me to punch him in the face and cross my arms over my chest. If I can't escape him, then malicious compliance it is.
“Can I help you?” I say with forced politeness.
“Are you done with work?” Arrogance drips from his tone irritating me even more.
"Yes," I answer.Does he expect me to stay after everyone else has left?
“Good,” he says. “Follow me."
And then he releases me, walking away as though he doesn’t doubt that I’ll be right behind him. Like it’s a given that when he says something, we just do it. When mighty Maddox speaks, the world listens.
And the worst part is, I have no choice but to prove him right.
I do follow him out to the parking lot. At first, I think he's walking me to my car again, as he did on that first day, but he doesn’t head toward the employee parking lot. Instead, he leads me to VIP parking and walks toward a red sportscar with slanted mean-looking lights.
I'm not a car person but I'm intimidated watching it. It must’ve cost more than my mortgage.
My feet slow the closer we get only to come to a full stop in front of the vehicle.
He turns and raises an eyebrow, crooking his finger in a completely obnoxious way.
“Get in.”
“Why?”
“Because you have to fulfill your duties.”
He says it in such an illicit way that I'm instantly offended. I stay where I am. I don’t care how much I need this job, I’m not sleeping with him for money.
He rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t get your mind in the gutter, I don’t mean it that way. You should see your face.”
"Oh." Is that disappointment I'm feeling? "Then what way do you mean it?"
He raises an eyebrow, like this should be obvious. “The gala?”
“Ah.” I remember the humiliating conversation after the kiss. "So, what does that have to do with me getting in your car?"
He sighs like he can't believe he has to explain this to me. "I’m going take a wild guess that you don’t have something even remotely appropriate to wear."
"Well, you’re wrong." I have a few pretty dresses I've been saving for the more elegant open houses. I even got one from Marshall's that could almost be mistaken as a designer.
Maddox gives me a disbelieving look. "Let me take a wild guess about the dress you're thinking of. It’s black, buttoned up to your neck, and off the rack."
