Page 112 of Rich and Bossy

“What did you just say to me?” Now, there’s rage in her voice.

I know how much she hates when I mention her age and reference it, and good. I’ll keep fucking doing it if she’s going to prove me right.

I steamroll right past her question. “You don’t have the first fucking clue what it’s like on my side of things. Sit over there with your morals and ideals and principles. I had no choice. I told you from the start it would happen. I told you they’d come to fucking crush you and I’d try, and I did that, and it’s not good enough for you because you don’t like the outcome. You were warned. That’s on you. I get it, you’re the good guy, the champion. Give me a fucking break. Did you warn those people? Did you tell them they might get fired? Or did you fill them full of rainbows and false hopes? You set them up for that, not me. That shit is on you.”

She sneers right at me. “Don’t try to pin this on anyone but you. You run the company, not me. I’m not a manager. I can’t fire people. That was on you and nobody else.”

I can tell I’m getting to her. She’s on the verge of exploding at me, and I think that’s exactly what I want to happen. I know it is. All the frustration from this ordeal has boiled to this one point, and I’m dumping all of it on her. She fucking started this. She’s the one who’s being unforgiving right now, so she gets what’s coming to her. “You can sit there and blame the big corporate villains all you want. You were warned. It happened. Sounds pretty stupid.” I lean in a little. “They’re all going to hate you now. All of them are sitting at home and they’re not blaming me. They’re blaming you. And all those people at the warehouse will be glad you got fired. Because they all hate you now too. Because of what you did. You didn’t warn them and prepare them for what would happen.”

She takes two big steps toward me. “I told you to get off my porch. We’re done here, and we’re done for good. I hope you feel like more of a man, getting drunk and picking a fight with me to ease your conscience. What a perfect example you’re setting for young men around the world. Your two nephews would be so proud of Uncle Pax.”

I didn’t know she had that one in her, but the rage starts boiling and it’s not going back in the bottle. It was even lower than her attacking me about my football injury. I lean right down in her face. “Fuck you.”

I turn and start back for the cab, fists clenched. I want to knock down every one of these giant fucking trees in my path. I know things were heated, but that was worse than anything she’s ever said to me.

“Go to hell, Paxton!” she whisper-screams at me when I’m about a step or two away.

I spin around. “I told you to fuck off. Go inside and cry and pretend you know a damn thing about living in the real world, about real sacrifice. Today was a life lesson. You’re a child. You live with your parents.” I bark out a laugh at theirhouse. “Anything you’ve learned about the world, you learned from books, or from Campbell Page who you snuck in under my nose. You have zero real experience with a fucking thing. Let me believe she was just a friend that night when I came to get perfect little Hazel to forgive me again. All you do is lie.”

“Is that why you’re acting like a coward right now? Trying to be as mean as possible to me, to absolve yourself of all the guilt?”

I reach up for my hair one more time because how can she be this obtuse? “It was about making a choice, and doing what I can to protect what’s mine. I’m sorry you’re too immature to handle that.”

“I don’t want to hear any more excuses about the mistake you made. I’ve heard enough.”

“Oh, believe me.” I bark out a disgusted laugh and storm over to her one more time. “I know exactly what a mistake looks like. I’m staring right at it.” I lean down to where I’m almost nose to nose with her. “Fuck you and your little union. Keep it up and I’ll bury everyone in that goddamn warehouse.”

The entire, freezing cold walk to the cab, I’m shaking with rage. My face feels like it’s on fire, even though it has to be under twenty degrees out here.

Fuck!

What did I just do?

CHAPTER 32

Paxton

Someone isabout to fucking die.

I ignore the first two rings of my doorbell, and they start pressing it rapid fire like a goddamn machine gun. I know exactly who’s standing out there. I’ve been avoiding him—and the rest of the world—for the past week, opting to work remotely.

He needs to take a hint.

I should be glad he’s given me this long without being an annoying little asshole.

If I didn’t already know I look like shit, John’s reaction makes it evident when I finally open the door.

He’s still standing there, grinning at me, and keeps ringing it over and over, even as he stares at me. “This is kinda fun.”

“Fuck you.” My heart’s not in it when I say it though.

He finally stops, then steps back and appraises me from head to toe. “Jesus Christ. I mean that literally, by the way. You look like you died three days ago and just rose from the dead.” He leans in a little, making a show of sniffing the air, then fakes a couple coughs like he’s choking. “Fucking smell like it, too.”

“What do you want, man?” Instead of stepping aside so he can come in, I leave him standing outside with the front door wide open.

I just walk back to the sofa. He knows how to get through an open door.

He lets out a whistle, strolling through the house. “You fire the housekeeper?”

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