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And no, I don’t care. I don’t.
He’s a character out of my nightmares. A freaking demon of my own, and I should not give a damn about him and those girls. Yet I wish each one would trip on those stupid heels they wear for him and snap their necks.
Jesus, Lexi, too much?
By the time I get home, all I have the power to do is take a shower and fall face-first on my bed.
That’s it.
I get up at five AM, run for his coffee, breakfast, and dry cleaners and rush to the office to clean up the inbox from all the emails.
I will not give Landon, the tyrant, the satisfaction of knowing he rains hell in my life. Nope. So, if I have to buy a denser concealer and foundation, I’ll do it.
Four more weeks, Lexi.
Four more weeks.
But today, those four weeks feel like a life sentence, and I’m in an extra sour mood. I haven’t even seen my best friend whom I live with because I spend all my time here or trying to catch the ever-elusive sleep since I decided being a big girl is a great idea.
Yeah, maybe I’m not cut out for this corporate crap after all.
I sigh and do not notice the looming presence above me.
“What’s with the sigh? Did you spend the whole night drinking again, Kitten?” Landon asks, and like I said, this is a bad day, and I don’t have it in me to ignore him.
“What are you, my father?” I ask, letting the anger deep through every word and refusing to spare him a single glance.
“Hmm, if you’re into role-playing, I can be your daddy, baby.” Fuck… “I am much older than you, after all.”
“Save it for yourappointments, Landon,” I tell him, and again don’t bother looking up. I can’t trust my poker face when I’m running on no sleep. It may betray me.
“Are you jealous, Miss Ellis?” He sounds way too amused.
I’m developing a permanent eye-twitch syndrome with this infuriating man. Oh, and a level twelve headache on my one to ten scale.
I snort, “Ha, you wish. Now, leave me alone so I can finish organizing your schedule.”
“What makes you think you can disrespect me like this?”
“What makes you think you deserve my respect?” I shoot him a bored look. “Also, the fact that you’re thirty-five only means that you have lived longer than me, yet you are still an idiot. A boy trapped in a man’s body.”
Suddenly, I am yanked away from my desk, and my chair spins to face his.
Oh, boy, did I strike a nerve with that last comment? I don’t say anything I don’t mean. If he expects me to apologize, it will never happen.
I don’t respect him.
“Alexandra, I am your boss, and you will speak to me accordingly.”
“Um, that will be a no. Go ahead and fire me, but I will not respect a grown-ass man and a CEO of a worldwide company with spoiled teenager tendencies and beyond inappropriate activities during work time. I will also not respect a man who doesn’t give a shit about a young woman going home at twelve AM or who takes pleasure in tormenting her. What is there to respect, huh?”
I can basically see the steam coming out of his ears and nose, but there is also something else lurking in there.
Worry? Shame? Hmm…
Good. Someone needed to give him a reality check, and if it had to be me? Well, that’s fine. I’ll take one for the team.
His good looks will not get me to bend over backward for him, nor will his bank account.
