Sexy Jerk(12)

But then Mathias Bigelow takes another step, and his closeness causes my pulse to leap erratically with fear. Effectively banishing all my thoughts about anything except the situation I am in.

When he takes another step toward me, I can smell the foul odor of his cologne, and I am forced to take a step back. He in turn, steps toward me again, caging me against the wall with his free arm.

Somehow I manage to suppress my snarl of rage.

Barely.

How dare he try to intimidate me?

Moving way past fear now, I grit my teeth and go on the attack. "Your shady business tactics won't work with me, Mr. Bigelow."

"Shady." He tips his head back and laughs.

"Yes, shady. You baited me in here, and now you want to switch the deal."

Somehow he moves even closer. "Are you accusing me of trying to pull a scam?"

Now my nerves are back, and I swallow before nodding.

"Do you know who I am?" he bites out.

As if his cologne doesn't smell bad enough, the smell of his coffee breath is vile. The combination is making me sick. My stomach becomes a nervous flutter. I want to get away from him. For a brief moment, I consider pushing him back. But I know I won't be able to budge him, so I don't. There's no way I am giving him that kind of satisfaction. Instead, I answer, "Yes," again, and then add, "I'll sign for the agreed upon amount only." 

He merely grins. "And I'll say it one more time, a little slower so you understand, there was no viable, binding prior agreement. This," he raises the hand with the clipboard and at the same time, lowers the arm caging me in, "is the only agreement there is."

I look down at the skirt and knee-high boots I opted to wear and then across to the door, and wonder should I decide to run, if I can make it.

And if I do, will he chase me?

Catch me?

Hold me in his grip?

Not wanting to risk an altercation, I square my shoulders and purse my lips. I can act tough, too.

As if sensing I plan to hold my ground, that he will not intimidate me, he pulls the stapled packet of papers from its holder. Once free, he shoves them at me. "I'll give you until Monday to decide, after that, this place is back on the market. And even with the increased price, you won't find a cheaper place for rent."

Damn him, he's right.

Still, I have my principles and will not be bullied. With shaky fingers I take the papers and stare at him, steady, unwavering. I refuse to show him any fear, or like a lion, he'll prey on it.

Finally he steps back, allowing me room to pass. "Goodbye," I say, willing my trembling voice to remain steady.

He grabs my upper arm, tightly, as I move past him. "You have until Monday," he reminds me, and then lets me go.

When I approach the door, all I can think is, I showed him. I am woman hear me roar. As I open the door, all I can think is, I really need a drink. But then, as the door closes behind me, all I can think is . . . I am not sure if I am lucky . . .

Or screwed.





Tess

DINNER CONSISTS OF a big bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine.

Over the last three months, this has become habit. And I rather like the ease of popping a bag into the microwave and then uncorking a bottle.

Truth be told, I might have gone to culinary school, but I'm not much of a cook. While I had exceled in restaurant management, food preparation courses weren't my forte. Honestly, I've just never loved cooking.

With my sweatpants on and my brown hair twisted in a knot on top of my head, I turn on the fireplace and blow my bangs from my eyes. My hair is in bad shape. I really could use a bang trim.

The ill state of my hair aside, I sit at the kitchen island with my laptop in front of me and begin to peruse alternative properties for rent. Any of the places within a semi-decent distance of Magnificent Mile are all way too expensive. Besides, more than likely Mathias Bigelow owns them, and God knows what his markup or punishment tax will be for me to rent an alternate one of his other properties.

I take a sip of wine and start adding up the costs to renovate the property I'm interested in, and then the increased monthly lease payments the ruthless bastard wants to charge me. The amount is almost doable. Almost. So close that it's like a tease. So close and yet so far. I simply don't have the money to stretch myself that thin. And I have to say, it's probably a good thing. I don't scare easy. I pride myself on the fact I can take care of myself. Still, he made me nervous.

And with that thought in mind, I realize I'm right back where I started two weeks ago when I started looking around . . . nowhere with nothing.

By the time I hear Nick's Range Rover pull into the driveway, that one glass of wine has somehow turned into three, my worries have quadrupled, and the popcorn bowl is nearly empty.

Nick had taken Max over to Jace Bennett's house right after pre-school pickup. Jace is Ethan and Nick's college buddy.