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“What are you doing?” I asked. “I said you can go.”
“I heard you.”
“So?” I waited for him to turn his tight butt around and stroll out the door.
“I’m moving payment for your services to your bank account.”
My mouth dropped. “Why do you have access to my bank account?”
“Pamela located all of your details upon our agreement. It’s standard, like the background check.”
“That’s not okay. I didn’t give you permission to pry into my personal anything.”
“Pamela did it. Not me.”
“I didn’t give Pamela permission either.”
“The transfer is complete.” He slipped his phone into his pocket.
“This is a huge violation of personal boundaries. You know that, right?”
“It’s standard.”
I used my phone to check my account to see that no funny business was happening. Of course Pamela didn’t have a reason to steal my twelve dollars, or whatever chump change was in there, but that wasn’t the point. Boundaries were the point, and Gabriel and his people didn’t seem to understand….
All thoughts floated away into the ether as I stared at all the zeroes—and not the usual kind. There were numbers in front of the zeroes.
I poked a finger of righteous accusation into the center of Gabriel’s chest.“What did you do?”
“As I said, I moved payment for your services. Nothing more.”
“This isn’t….” I shook my head trying to gather coherent words. “You can’t put that kind of money into my account. The cops are going to think I robbed a bank.”
“It’s all perfectly legal.”
“I’m going to get flagged as a drug dealer.”
“You won’t.”
“It’s too much,” I said, completely flabbergasted. It felt wrong, and I couldn’t exactly put my finger on why. “Is this goodbye? A grand gesture for our agreement’s end?”
“Of course not. You promised to help me on February fifth, and until the merger meeting has concluded on February fourteenth. I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.”
“Then what is this for?” It hit me why this felt so wrong. “Is this for the sex? Like you can buy me? That’s not what happened. It was a drunken accident that meant nothing.”
“You’ve made that clear. Along with the fact that you hate me.”
I expected anger, but that’s not what I saw. If anything, he looked wounded.
I didn’thatehim. Why would he…and then I remembered sitting on his face telling him just that.
“I don’t hate you,” I said.
He clenched his jaw.
“You’re frustrating and difficult and you make me want to rip my hair out.”
He raised a brow like I was proving his point.
