Page 41 of Frayed Bonds

“None taken. You weren't my first choice to be completely honest, however, I’m desperate and if I understand things correctly, you need money so I figured we could strike a deal,” I stand up now.

The memory of what happened the last time I got close to her in my office is ingrained in my mind, yet I still find myself circling the desk getting close to her once again.

She’s gone quiet now, and is merely watching me until I come to a halt in front of her, causing her to look up at me. Her little excuse for heels do nothing to make her taller, I tower over her both in height and in sheer size.

She squares back her shoulders, leaving no room for me to see any intimidation in her deep brown eyes, instead, they blaze with a challenge now.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“I’ll pay you if you agree to be my date.”

“I’m not an escort.” She scoffs, clearly offended.

I simply shrug and take a seat on the edge of my desk, allowing her to now be closer to my eye level.

She stays quiet, I imagine mulling it over. “How much?”

I don’t hide my smirk. “How much do you want, sweetheart?”

Her face pulls in disgust. “Ten thousand, and for you to never call me that again.”

That number rolls off her tongue as if she knows it off by heart. “I’ll give you fifteen, and I can call you anything I want for the night.”

“Deal,” she says in an instant.

I extend my hand, and her warm hand with well-manicured nails shakes mine. The contrast of her soft pink, against my harsh black tattoos isn't lost on me, and it isn’t lost on her either, as her eyes linger on my forearms again. We look like total opposites, but for some God-forsaken reason here we are, helping each other.

“I’ll pick you up at 8 p.m., sweetheart,” I say.

“Sure thing, boss,” she does the awkward salute again, moving back. I see the distance she throws between us.

I grab her wrist, and she stares at me in alarm. I release her wrist quickly, not wanting a repeat of the last time, and her face immediately softens. I slide out my wallet from my pocket and hand her my card.

“Get the driver to take you to the mall to get a dress, I’ll text you the pin.”

“Yes, boss,” she nods, and takes the card from my hand. She practically sprints to the door, or at least tries to in her miniature heels.

“Oh, and Valerie,” I say. She stops and turns to face me. “For the love of all that is good in this world, please stop calling me boss.”

“What else am I supposed to call you when you're ordering me around?”

“Trust me if I was ordering you around, you'd be lucky if you remembered any name but mine.”

Her mouth drops open slightly as my words register.

I laugh at her reaction. “Just call me Ambrose, Val.”

She nods quickly and disappears out of my office.

Then it's back. The way my office loses all colour, and the only thing left behind is the faint smell of her perfume. I slip back into my chair and stare at the area in front of my desk where the entire interaction took place. I run my palm across my chin once again, I feel like I've gripped onto a live wire, my entire body feeling as if it's vibrating.

I try to shake it off, shifting my attention to the work on my desk, but all that’s playing through my mind is the way she reacts to everything I say. Her laugh, her expressions. Every. Single. Detail. On. Repeat.

Valerie Farina is my perfect distraction materialised into human form, and the last thing I need right now is to be distracted.

Chapter fifteen

Valerie

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