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A little crease formed between his brow. “You're going to continue working after we've completed our contract?”
I laughed, looking at him like he should know better. “One, I happen to love my job. Two, I may not have money, but that doesn't mean I don'tunderstandmoney. And while one point five million is an incredible amount, after taxes, setting me and Brecken up for retirement, living expenses, and an NYU education, there won't be enough left to live on indefinitely. It would be frivolous of me to throw my job away.”
“Wow,” Crossland said, looking genuinely impressed. “I really didn't think of that.”
I waved him off. “I wouldn't expect you to,” I said honestly and with no judgment. The guy had billions in the bank, he had tax breaks galore and he never had to worry about taxes taking nearly half of every paycheck or saving for emergencies and retirement.
And I didn’t have those last two things yet, but I fully intended to use what was left over of the one point five million after school expenses and taxes to ensure that I did.
Customers started to pile in, and I scooted away from the table. “I'm really sorry,” I said. “But I pulled a double today to make up for what I missed last week. I won't be off until seven tonight, and I work all of this week.”
I really hope that wouldn't compromise my standing in our agreement, but I knew enough about Crossland to know that nothing in his life was predictable. I think he preferred it that way, and I couldn't really blame him. After being with him, living in his world, I loved getting caught up in chaotic and wild adventures just as much as the next person, but I had responsibilities.
Crossland followed me, stopping in front of the counter as I went behind it. He winked at me, holding up his coffee cup. “Thanks for the drink, kitten,” he said before moving out of the next customer's way and disappearing without another word.
I knew there would be more to discuss about my schedule, but I quickly pushed those worries to the back of my mind as I focused on each new customer. And by the time my shift ended, I was more than ready to walk home and fall into bed.
I managed to stumble through my front door and lock it behind me, then took a hot shower before I did, in fact, fall into bed. I rolled over to grab my phone, intending to set my alarm for tomorrow's morning shift only to see a text from my boss.
Chels: All your shifts have been cleared. Enjoy the vacation. ;)
I started typing back a question to her text, but stopped myself mid-thought, quickly deleting it.
Instead, I pulled up Crossland’s number and dialed.
He answered after the first ring. “Looking for another five minutes?”
“What did you do?” I asked, adrenaline snaking through my veins. “Did you talk to my boss?” I asked before he could answer. “Did you bribe her into letting me off? Because that wasn't your decision to make.”
“Of course not,” he said. “I don't bribe people. I bought the coffee shop.”
“You what?” I asked unbelieving.
“I bought the coffee shop. Now your job will be there when you're done working for me.”
“You can't be serious? You can't just go and buy a business because you want me to have the next couple months off.”
“Who says?”
“The real world?” I sputtered my response, my emotions leaping from shocked too impressed to shocked again. Once again, I was met with the vast expanse of his world. It wasn’t the same as mine. Hell, we lived on different planets.
“Aspen, I didn't do this as some form of control. I did this so that you would have options without any worries. Now, if you’re that objective to going on last-minute trips with me, that's another story. And we'll need to talk about it to see how we can find some middle ground. But if feeling guilty for taking time off work and worrying about not having a job when we're done was the main reason behind it, then I've solved that problem. The owner was more than happy to sell to me, and your manager—who was an absolute delight by the way—completely supported my inquiry when I asked if you would be able to take some time off. They love you over there, not surprisingly. But when it comes down to it, I’m now the owner and I have final say on if you have a job or not when we're done, which obviously you do. So which is it?”
I sat on my bed, gaping at my phone and shaking my head as I tried to gather my thoughts. It was like Crossland had a direct insight into my over-analyzing brain. He’d just as easily erased the concerns of control and intention in a few sentences as he had when handling other things about me.
Where did he come from? And how did he understand me so damn well already?
“I've never had any hesitation about traveling with you, Cross,” I said on a released breath. “But I feel like I should be angry with you on principle.”
Crossland laughed, and the rich sound of it loosened the tension in my chest. “I respect that,” he said. “It's okay if you're angry with me, kitten. I'll have fun making it up to you.”
Heat spiraled down my core at the seductive tone his voice dipped into, easily switching from businessman to playboy in a matter of seconds.
I could barely bite back my smile, and I was thankful he couldn't see me grinning at the phone. Though he could likely hear it in my voice. “Fine,” I said, doing my best to sound asaggravated as possible. “Then I'm angry with you. The next time you decide to buy one of my places of business, you should consult me first.”
Crossland laughed again, and I shook my head, chiding myself for how much I enjoyed the sound.
“Okay, kitten,” he said. “I'll be sure to do that next time. In the meantime? Can you be ready to fly out tomorrow at eight a.m.?”
