The Rule Book (Rule Breakers #1)(33)

 

The weight of everything that had happened in the last hour slammed into me like a semi truck. Seriously, did all this shit have to happen today? I wasn’t one to be a woe-is-me girl, but really, when all roads pointed to Rome, well, it was happening.

 

He raised a brow, and his mouth worked. I knew this was it, he was about to fire my ass for something Jackson made me do. And then I wouldn’t be able to pay any flippin’ healthcare bills. And if I couldn’t pay bills, then would my mom receive treatment? My pulse throbbed in my temples, and I couldn’t tamp down the temper bubbling to the surface. A girl could only have so much shit flung on her Jimmy Choos before she went into rage mode.

 

His voice was cool and matter-of-fact as he said, “I don’t care if Jackson promises you the damn Taj Mahal. I don’t want you in my apartment. This is my personal space. Bruce only responds well to people he knows. To trustworthy people.” This was the first time I’d seen him be uncharacteristically uncharismatic.

 

Hell. No. What a condescending prick. Screw this totally hot man standing painfully naked in front of me. Screw the fact that he insinuated I wasn’t trustworthy enough for his damn dog. Heat pooled at the base of my neck, and I narrowed my eyes. “You know what? I have bigger things to focus on than your damn rules. I mean, who the hell cares if there’s a semi-colon in a tweet? Nobody! Or how about the whole leggings aren’t pants thing dress code, because I have a pair in my closet that begs to differ.” I threw my hands in the air. Who did he think he was trying to make everyone abide by his stupid manual that made zero sense? “And you’re welcome for walking your slobbering mutt in freezing weather while he pisses on my shoes, and tries to hump a poodle that’s way out of his league.”

 

He took a step back, his annoyance quickly morphing into shock. “Excuse me?”

 

I took a step toward him, not backing down from what I’d started. If I was going to get fired, dammit, I was going to lay it all out on the table because tonight I really gave zero shits about Brogan and this stupid job two hundred miles away from the person who needed me most.

 

“You heard me. I’ve been dealing with my mom who has cancer and who’s dy—” I paused to collect myself, my throat tight. “Bills keep piling up, collectors keep calling. The last thing I need is for you to treat me like I’m some asshole.” My breaths came out in heavy pants, but I kept going. “I walk your damn dog for you. One who uses my sweaters as kibble, because the small horse probably isn’t getting enough food. Seriously, you need to feed him more, because he can’t survive on my cashmere sweaters.”

 

Brogan went to speak, and I put a finger up, signaling I wasn’t quite done giving him a piece of my mind.

 

“And another thing. The garlic rule is totally stupid. Everyone knows Luigi’s is the best place to eat, and your office rule is a total buzz kill. On a side note, it is really hard to rant when you’re standing there in a towel.” I’d at least managed to keep my gaze from meandering below chest-level. Okay, maybe my eyes wandered a couple times, but that just proved my herculean restraint, because it could have been much worse.

 

He blinked hard, and the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Are you done?”

 

I crossed my arms and looked down at Bruce, who was wagging his tail, looking from me to Brogan. Damn dog. “Yes.”

 

His gaze softened. “Sit down.” The two words were quiet, but still held the authority of a man who ran a Fortune 500 company.

 

I shifted my eyes to his, not understanding. Surely he should have called security by now, or at the very least had Bruce chase me out the door. “What?”

 

“I said sit down.” He pointed to the leather sofa in the living room.

 

I was still fuming and feeling a bit sassy, heavy on the assy, when I said, “You know, for a boss, you’re awfully bossy.”

 

He shot me a look. “I’m going to let that slide because you’re having a shitty day.” As he led me to the living room, he motioned for me to sit on the sofa. “Do you like tea?”

 

“Coffee.”

 

He nodded. “Okay.”

 

I sat there alone in the living room, staring at the mantle. There were no pictures hung, just abstract art. A fire crackled in the hearth, and Bruce snuggled next to the heat, belly up on the white shag rug. I shifted on the sofa, feeling suddenly self-conscious that I’d just told my boss off while he was half-naked, and he hadn’t kicked me out.

 

He came back a few minutes later, fully clothed in a black T-shirt and gray sweats, carrying two steaming mugs and handing me one.