“We could put it at the other end?”
Tyler glanced around the room. He had resumed his previous nonchalant stance of hands in pockets, shoulders dropped, and resting smug face. “That's not going to work. I can’t have a large block in the middle of the room.”
I wanted to bang my head against the wall. Where was Sebastian anyway? Did he know his brother was being a little bitch? Obviously, Tyler didn’t care about my input, and working with him was futile. “You know what?” I gave him a tight smile. “I’ll just wait until Sebastian comes back.”
“I told you, you’re working with me now.”
“Obstructing. You mean obstructing me, because this is hardly working together. You won’t sign off on anything I suggest out of some petty grudge you have against me. And I gotta say it’s highly unprofessional coming from one of the 'fastest-growing' real estate companies.”
Tyler marched over to me, closing the space between us in a flash until he was standing right in front of me. Inches away. “Trust me, if I wanted to be unprofessional, you and your little company wouldn’t have gotten this job. You wouldn’t have gotten any job because I would have thrown you out of town and made sure any real estate company worth its salt would not work with you.”
Even though I was tall, he was one of the few men I had to look up to when speaking. I raised my chin, refusing to be intimidated. “And why didn’t you?”
“Believe it or not, my little brother thinks there’s something special about your talents. Personally, I don’t see any. But I do know you have talents in other areas.” His voice lowered to almost a whisper. “Is that what you showed him?”
My palm connected with his palm before I had time to think. Before I had time to calm myself down and restrain the fire burning inside me. The slap caught him off guard. He flinched. Rage turned his body rigid. Immediately I regretted the act, but I could not apologize. He deserved it. Silence settled between us as I waited for the hammer to drop. For him to tell me I was fired and that I should leave the premises and that he would be contacting his lawyers and pressing assault charges on me. Just like that, he could destroy my business as he wished. But he said nothing.
I marched back to the elevator. My bag heavy, the strap digging into my shoulder. I opened it and entered. When I faced the room, Tyler was making his way back into the elevator. Great. I was hoping to march out without standing in silence next to him. He joined me and closed the door. I pressed the down button. The elevator moved a few floors and ground to a halt. I pressed the button three times again and… nothing.
“What’s happening?” Tyler said.
“Looks like we’re stuck.”
Chapter 9
Tyler
We were suspended forty floors above a building under construction with no one to help us. The emergency button, which I had probably pressed a hundred times, did not seem to work. And if it did, whoever should help us was ignoring us. Saffron was waving her phone in the air searching for a signal, something I had done before to no avail. The signal boosters hadn’t been installed yet. So, what she was doing was futile. I tried to call the emergency line in the booster, but no one was answering.
“Why isn’t anybody coming?” she asked. Then she banged her head against the plywood wall. “Of course. Lunch.”
“You mean they’re at lunch?” I checked the time. It was certainly around the time people went for lunch. God damn it.
I pressed the emergency button again. Nothing happened. I slammed it again in frustration. Saffron scoffed. “Destroy our one hope for salvation, will you?”
“The button isn’t working, anyway.”
“You don’t know that. Lunch. Like I said. They’ve probably gone for lunch.”
“Sure,” I replied sarcastically. “It’s obviously not the faulty elevator we’re in.”
“Hey, don’t blame me. I'm simply the interior decorator.”
I frowned, crossing my arms and pressing my back into the corner. “How did you become one, anyway?”
She shook her head and dropped her bag onto the floor, then went to the buttons. “Like how every interior decorator does. I went to school for it.” She bent over and peered over them, pressing a button randomly, as though she would be able to diagnose the problem. Her well-rounded butt looked deliciously inviting in that position, and I bit my inner lip to stop myself from acting like a fool. Five years later, and I still wanted to fuck her. When was this unhealthy desire going to dissipate? I hated it. Only weak men were this obsessed with a woman who didn’t care for them.
“Really?” I snorted. “Where? Bumfuck Community College.”
“The Fashion Institute of Technology, actually.”
Part of me could help but be impressed. It was a prestigious college that was hard to get into, but the other, more cynical part of me — the ugly one that wanted to prove she had no effect on me — won. “How did you get in? Did you suck off your professors? Or maybe you had your father blackmail them.” She froze. I had gotten to her. That should have been enough. But that ugly part wanted to niggle at her more. “Or both.”
She straightened. Saffron did not face me. She remained standing, staring straight ahead. After a long moment, her shoulders dropped, and she turned around. I was expecting sadness or tears, but what I got instead was rage.
“Unlike you, Tyler, the boy who had to use daddy’s money and influence, I actually put myself through college. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You’d rather see me as a spoiled rich kid. As though flinging that moniker on me will wash away whatever guilt you feel for being a nepo baby.”
Ouch. That hit too close to the truth. But she was wrong on one account. “Did you though? Because if I remember correctly, I paid you a big chunk of change just to get a ring on your finger.”
