Rated R, NSFW
Read previous chapters or from the start here: Blythe and Mac’s story
I managed to dodge Mac for eleven entire days. Go me! It was a personal accomplishment I did not take lightly. I had an assistant that I sent out to meet with him instead. I was still on cloud nine about having an assistant. Jill didn’t get a personal assistant. I was also asked to give input on three other designs. Also something Jill has never been asked to do. I discovered quickly that this position was actually above Jill. Over time I would gather more responsibilities as I settled into the roll. So Jill’s bitter animosity was understandable. I kept one step ahead of her pathetic attempts to sabotage me and I think it’s pissing her off even more. Oh well. It’s her problem not mine.
On day twelve, at the end of the day, my office door burst open, sans knock, just before six.
I was working late on purpose. I hitched a ride with Lawrence since my car was in for repair. He had an appointment with a client and had left for the day. Some jackass slashed my tires and ran keys or something down the one side. Four cars in the lot were hit. There was controversy over who was responsible for the damage. The vandals, the neglectful property owner or the city for failing to keep riff-raff off the streets. I don’t have time to argue about it they can sort it out. My insurance paid for the damage and I didn’t get dinged.
Despite it all the owner was finally installing the long overdue security cameras, not that I thought they would help. Vandals would do what they wanted. Cameras or not. It was just bad luck in my opinion. I was also hiding in my office because Mac had insisted I join him for dinner to discuss the latest plans I sent him and I sent my assistant Elisa to meet him.
Mac slammed the door behind him.
“Please do come in.” I didn’t bother to look up from my monitor. One because his arrogance infuriated me and two because if I looked at his sexy face and alluring eyes… sigh.
“Sending that insipid little twit in your place is juvenile.”
I looked up at that remark. “No it’s not juvenile it’s Elisa’s job and I’m busy. Calling someone a twit is juvenile.” I stood up to face his anger head on. “Temper tantrum much?”
“You’re thwarting my every effort to see you.”
“Seriously? Did you think I’d just swoon and let you get your way Mr. Waterstone?”
“Why are you being so difficult?”
“I’m sorry if you don’t like reality, but I’m not a pushover. I’m not going to make it easy for you.”
Mac’s grin nearly knocked me over. He was far too sexy for his own good. “Aha! I knew it.” He pointed at me. “You’re playing hard to get.”
I rolled my eyes and tutted one loud snap of my tongue. “I’m not playing anything but avoiding the narcissistic spoiled brat playboy who’s slumming it.” I did not mean to say that. I’m such a hypocrite; I resorted to name calling.
Mac nodded curtly. “So you did hear us. I’m surprised you’d stoop so low.”
Ugh. I clenched my fists. “Unfortunately I did and I’m honestly sorry about that. My parents raised me better than to listen in on conversations.”
“Did they forget to teach you not to be un-soundly judgmental and hypocritically label people with prejudice?”
I looked down at my desktop. “Yes.” I closed my eyes. As fast at this man turned me on he also enraged me in an instant. “You make me so furious and I don’t know why. I apologize.”
“Maybe if you’d actually talk to me or you know, go out on a date, you might have something nicer to say.”
“Nice try.” I smiled. “Honestly I’m not myself around you and before you get any ideas, it’s also the reason I’m avoiding you. I need to concentrate on work and you have other plans.”
I expected some snarky retort about not working twenty-four seven or some justifiable nonsense.
“Finish up here, we’re going for dinner.” He glared at me. “To discuss the plans. I have some questions I want answered by you not the ‘I’ll look into it and get back to you’ girl.”
I wrung my hands a moment, turned my computer off and shoved everything I needed into my new very sexy brief case. He held the door for me as I grabbed my purse and we left.
“May I drive you to the restaurant or will you insist on following and then ditching me?”
“I would not ditch you. Your car is fine since mine’s in for some cosmetic surgery.”
I explained as he drove.
Mac frowned. “I can’t imagine why someone would feel entitled to do that.”
I shrugged. “I was super pissed at first, but then I realized that no matter what, my life is probably infinitely better than theirs. Even if it was just some drunk kids who got over zealous, they will have to live with the guilt.”
“That’s overly optimistic of you Blythe. Guilt? I doubt someone so depraved would be doing much other than bragging.”
“Maybe. But if that’s all they have to brag about, that’s sad don’t you think?”
Mac pursed his lips and tapped his gaudy gold ring on the steering wheel as he pulled up to Mama Sophia. He got out handed the keys to a valet and walked around fast enough to get to my door before I had it completely open. I narrowed my eyes at his outstretched hand and took it reluctantly so he could help me from the car. The brief electrified touch reminded me why I was avoiding him. I did take my briefcase and purse with me. Despite the ‘cat that just got the cream’ look on Mac’s face, I was determined to keep this professional.
To be continued…
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Next Chapter: #11 Run Blythe, Run