Page 26 of Her Filthy Mistake

But he did nothing. Is it because of his issues? Maybe Zayden was wrong. Maybe he does have an issue getting it up.

My head slings back down again and hits the pillow. I’m going to die a shriveled-up hag with a horde of guinea pigs. Or whatever a bunch of guinea pigs is called.

“Alone?”

“Alone, what?”

“Were you in the shower alone?” His voice is a low growl.

“Of course, I was alone.” I grind my teeth together and snap upright in the middle of the bed. “Not that it’s any of your business who or what I’m doing. I’ll be 23 in a couple of months.”

“I’m well aware of that but….” He pauses for a moment and then continues. “Ethan James was asking about you.”

“So?” I’d much rather be doing anything else rather than listening to my father rattle on about nothing.

“So, I think he’s interested in dating you, and you’d make a fine match together. The owner of James Entertainment marries the daughter of Anderson Records.”

Obviously, I know who Ethan James is. He’s the owner of the largest recording label in the United States, having inherited it from his father upon his death 11 years ago. Although he’s near my father’s age, he’s an attractive man–brown hair, dark eyes, and a trim build. But I’m not interested in dating some random man I don’t know.

“Jesus,” I groan, jump off the bed, and pace from one side of the room to the other. “Did you ever think I might want to decide who I date and marry? I can’t believe you have the audacity to–”

“That’s enough, Zoe. There’s no reason to insult me.”

“Other than you’re telling me what to do and whom to do it with when I’m an adult.”

“Zoe Arabella Anderson, that’s enough. It would be the perfect merger. When we get back from the Caribbean, I’ll set up a date between the three of us so we can discuss the future and you and Ethan can get to know each other better.”

“That’s ridiculous. We’re not sitting down and discussing a future between Mr. James and myself. I’m not a contract you’re negotiating. And I don’t care what he thinks of me. I’m not interested.”

“Young lady–”

“Enough. I’m not dating this man, and that’s the end of the conversation.” Anger rolls through me. I’ve been good and listened to my father on most things, but this is where I draw the line. I’m not dating someone because he said I had to; nor am I not dating someone because he said I can’t. Who does he think he is?

“Fine.” He clears his throat. “I hope you aren’t spending time with Fletcher’s brother. He’s no good.”

My jaw flexes as that wave of anger that ebbed moments ago crashes back to the surface. “Jace is a great guy. There’s no reason to say anything insulting about him. Mom adores him. He’s great with Zorya.”

“He’s a strung-out loser. And he’d use you to get ahead without batting an eye. Don’t be naive. You work with my company’s talent acquisition department. There’s only one reason he’d be interested in you.”

My eyes gloss over until everything in the room is tinged in red. “Like you were trying to do one minute ago? You wanted me to date Ethan James so you could convince him to marry me and somehow use it to increase your stranglehold on the music industry.”

“That’s enough, young lady. I expect you to change your tone when speaking to me.”

“Sure.” I lower my voice and add a layer of sugary sarcasm as I yank open my closet door. “I need to go. I have an appointment tonight.” It would serve him right if I fucked Jace and shoved it in his face.

The red angel on my shoulder smirks, ‘Walk into the living room naked and climb on his lap.’ I could seduce him. It wouldn’t be that hard.

While the white angel stomps the tip of her black patent leather shoe on my skin. ‘That’s enough. You aren’t seducing anyone to get back at your father. That would make you as sick and controlling as he is.’

Why do I let him get to me like this?

I brace the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Dad, nothing is going on between Jace and me, but he’s nothing like you think he is. He’s sober. He’s not using drugs. And I don’t know what your hang-up is with him anyway.” I shove on a pair of comfortable shorts and maneuver the phone from hand to hand as I slip on the matching pajama top. “You manage bands who use drugs all the time, and you don’t blink an eye.”

“He’s manipulative and conniving. I don’t trust him. Besides, he’s not good….” He trails off and coughs. “He’s not a good singer. Or not good enough. If he was a lights-out talent, I could ignore his proclivities. But he’s not.”

He’s wrong, but there’s no use arguing with him on the phone. “Dad, I love you. I’ll see you when you get here.”

My brain throbs behind my eyes as I snap off my phone and toss it onto the bed.

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