“You do that.” I get up. “Thanks, Pete.”
“My pleasure.”
I leave. Dennis is nowhere to be seen, although if he knew I was leaving, he might’ve come out to see me off. I don’t know why he bothers me. Pete’s worked with other interns before, and I hardly ever noticed them…unless they were hot chicks.
I shake my head. Whatever. Like Pete said, he’s only here for six months. And even if he becomes a permanent hire, what am I going to do? I’m fortunate to be OWM’s client. The firm’s been cutting back recently, becoming even more exclusive, but since I was one of the early customers, I still get to keep my account with them.
OWM must have an oracle on staff, because I’ve never seen it lose a client’s money. A lot of people think that the algorithm Lucas and I sold on our twenty-first birthday is what made us billionaires. Actually the company and all intellectual property attached to it were sold for over a billion, but after expenses and split two ways, the amount I got was a lot less. It was OWM that pushed me into the ten-figure ranks.
For which I compensate them handsomely.
I walk past the receptionist’s desk. As I’m about to open the glass doors to the elevators, I see someone in my peripheral vision and stop. It’s…that girl.
Annabelle Key.
I can hardly believe my eyes, but there she is, pushing a cart with cleaning supplies and buckets. A gray janitorial staff uniform hangs loosely, hiding her body. Her bright red hair is pulled into a ponytail, there isn’t any makeup on her small face, and her pale lips are set in a line as flat as a hyphen.
My gaze swings to the door that just shut behind her, and I see a black-and-white sign with a triangular woman’s figure on it.
I don’t think. I just move.
Before I know it I’m next to her, my hand around her arm. She looks up at me, eyes wide. This close I can smell floral soap and a sweet womanly scent. But there’s also chlorine, twisting like a knife, and it infuriates the hell out of me that she’s here…doing this.
“Janitor work? Janitor work is your calling?” I almost snarl.
She tilts her chin in defiance. “Why do you care?”
I flex my hand, suppressing the urge to shake her until her teeth rattle. I don’t know why I give a damn. I really shouldn’t, but I keep thinking about her, and fuck me if I can figure out why I can’t just stick her in the “whatever” box.
All women in my life are neatly categorized: “family and friends,” “previously fucked,” “to be fucked,” and the catch-all “whatever.” The last one is for women who don’t fit into the first three, and once a chick goes in there, I don’t think about her anymore. It just isn’t worth the effort. Life is full of willing girls.
And maybe it’s because she won’t fit neatly into a box that I’m fascinated. I love a good challenge, and I’ve been bored for a long time.
“Do you think you can find a husband scrubbing toilets?” I ask.
“Beats being told to get on my knees by some random rich guy.”
“Three grand not enough?”
“I prefer something steadier than just one night.”
She yanks on her arm, but I don’t let go. I sense the receptionist watching us, but I don’t give a fuck. She’s going to be discreet about it because that’s what the firm pays her to be.
“So your objection is to the one-off nature of my offer?”
Instead of answering, she jerks her arm again. But I’m not letting go until I’m done.
“When are you finished with your shift?” I ask.
“None of your damn business.”
“I can make your life very difficult.” I lean close until I can see every fleck in her mesmerizing green eyes. “I could get you fired right now.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“Asshole.”
I merely smile. “Your shift?”
“Five,” she grinds out.
“Good. I’ll send a car. We’ll talk.”
“About what?”
“About you going on your knees on a more consistent basis.”
Her complexion turns as red as a boiled lobster. If we didn’t have an audience, I’m sure she’d slap me.
And for some strange reason, that amuses me a great deal. I let go and leave, whistling. But as soon as I’m inside an elevator, my merriment fizzles. I have things to do.
Chapter Nine
Annabelle
I shake all day long. It’s impossible to be calm and collected when the sexiest man I’ve ever met behaves so horribly toward me.
I’d much rather drink a cocktail of bleach and ammonia than face him after my shift is over, but I just started this job. As a matter of fact, today is my first day. And I’m practical enough to know that if the choice is me or him, management is going to choose him. He’s rich and obviously important. I’m just a cleaning girl.