Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Astrid stills, holding her breath.
“I know what I signed.” I look at my assistant over my shoulder and wonder for a split second whether she’s going to shout at Renn and me, or if she’s going to get up and leave the room. Much to my surprise, she remains quiet and seated. “But nowhere in that contract did it say that I had to work with anyone I found … combative.”
“While I take offense to the adjective, I concur,” Astrid says, breaking her blissful silence. “In my employment contract, it doesn’t say a word about working with assholes.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “I meant that offensively.”
I smirk just to piss her off. “You’re going to have to try harder if you want to offend me.”
“Challenge accepted.”
Her green eyes blaze, and the gold flecks scattered about in her irises catch the light. With pretty eyes, big tits, and a juicy ass, Astrid could be a knockout if she weren’t such a shrew.
“Astrid, you don’t have an employment contract,” Renn says, smiling at her. It’s clear he likes her and has some level of respect for the redhead. He’s a better man than me. “But now I’m thinking about making you sign one.”
“Hey, that’s a bargaining chip,” she says. “Let’s negotiate.”
“And your contract, Gray, specifically states that I get to choose your assistant.” Renn looks at me with far less kindness and ignores Astrid’s suggestion. “Call your agent if you want to argue about it.”
I stretch my neck, working it from side to side in a futile attempt to relieve the stress in my shoulders.
This whole situation is unnecessary—I didn’t want an assistant to start with, and the fact that we’re wasting time with it pokes at me. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I want a little peace and quiet after driving almost twenty hours from Denver with my life in boxes. Is that too much to ask?
“You’re both professionals.” Renn pushes away from his desk and stands. “I’m going to grab a drink from the café downstairs.” He looks pointedly at Astrid. “Have this handled when I get back.”
Fuck. We sit like scolded children as he moves past us and exits the room.
“That went well,” I mutter, running a hand down my face.
“You’re like a bad penny,” she grumbles. “You just keep showing up.”
“Some people say it’s a part of my charm.”
She snorts. “Charm is not one of the first thousand words that comes to mind when I think of you.”
“You’re probably not used to it. I would imagine not many charming people choose to spend their time with you.”
Astrid stands abruptly, knocking the clipboard on her lap to the floor. Instead of picking it up, she marches to the windows and stands with her back to me. I’m not sure if giving me a magnificent view of her ass is supposed to be a fuck you or not, but it’s one I can work with.
Hell, maybe it’s a peace offering. God knows I’ve accepted less.
“So how do you suggest we get ourselves out of this?” she asks. “Because I’m not putting up with your bullshit for the next couple of months.”
“My bullshit? Because if I remember correctly, and I do, you were the one who marched back to my truck like some gas pump princess to scream at me.”
She glares at me over her shoulder. “Scream at you? I did no such thing.”
“What word makes you feel better about it, then? Berate? Yell? Shout?”
“Oh, look at you,” she mocks me. “Such an extensive vocabulary. Let me get you a cookie.”
“Oh, look at you,” I mock her right back. God, I hate this woman. “Deflecting from the point I just made.”
She pivots on her heel to face me with her lips pressed in a thin, tight line.
I’ve never met someone this argumentative, and I’ve met some absolute fuckheads in my life. But never has someone just plucked me out from the crowd and stormed into my space with such determination to pick a fight. Over everything.
What the fuck is her problem?
I rest my elbows on my knees and fold my hands together. “I’m contractually obligated to work with you. So you get to be the hero, which I’m sure you love to be, and bow out of this. Problem solved.”
Astrid bristles, standing taller. I’ve hit a nerve. I can see it in her eyes.
“Contract or not, I was tasked with keeping you in line,” she says. “Renn hand-picked me for this challenge. It’s not any easier for me to extricate myself from this than it is for you.”
I lean back, absorbing her words. Tasked with keeping me in line?
The sentence slices right through me. Suddenly, a lot of shit makes sense.
My heart beats harder as I unpack this situation. It felt a bit off since Renn offered to give me a giant bonus in exchange for accepting an assistant, but I brushed it off as a quirk of an owner. Weirder things have happened.