Page 71 of Rich and Bossy

Her chin juts out, confirming I’m in for a fight. Not that I would expect anything else. “No thanks.”

“Fair enough.” I say the words, even if I think her reaction is anything but fair. I’m willing to be the bigger person, so long as it means getting the opportunity to say what I want to say. “Can you come over here?”

She glances back at the woman behind her, who doesn’t look familiar, as if asking for her approval. The other woman has to be her mom. They look alike. Her nostrils flare when she huffs out an exasperated little sigh. “Fine.” She yanks a coat down from a hook beside the front door so violently, I’m surprised the hook doesn’t come along with it. “I’m busy, though, so this will be quick and you won’t be wasting my time.”

“I would never dream of wasting your time.” I’m not sure how much of this I can put up with before my temper gets the better of me, but I have to try. I can’t help it. I just need her not to hate me. I have to try to do this, to get John to back off.

I back up a little ways from the door, descending the front steps until I’m standing in the front yard. It’s a cute, tidy little house, one that reminds me of the sort of place I grew up in. I would tell her about that, but that would mean risking her accusing me of pandering. Like I’m trying to be one of the common people.

She punches her fists through the sleeves before marching down the steps. To their credit, her family closes the door, giving us some semblance of privacy. I have no doubt they'll be watching from that Ring camera, but I would expect nothing less after the way I showed up out of nowhere. If anything, it means they’re looking out for her, caring about her best interests. I have to respect that.

The air is a few degrees below chilly, but it’s nothing compared to the iciness radiating from Hazel. And even now, she’s stunningly gorgeous. Damn, I want to kiss her so bad. Maybe more so with the color in her cheeks and the fire in her eyes.

Man, it’s so good just to see her, even when she’s pissed.

“Well?” She makes a big deal of tapping her foot on the pavement, arms folded. “Say what you need to say so I can get back inside. It’s cold.”

“I didn’t want to leave things the way we left them back at the warehouse. I was…”

“A jerk?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“Is this still about you wanting to look like the good guy? Why do you care what I think?” She unfolds her arms only long enough to make air quotes. “I get it. You want me to like you. Idon’t. Can we move on? Your employees are working themselves half to death, but all you’re concerned with is what I think of you.”

“I don’t care what you think of me.” I take a step toward her. “I just want you to know that I didn’t have anything to do with that meeting.”

“Terrific. You didn’t know about it. Thanks for stopping by.” She gives me a fake salute and turns.

“You don’t believe me, though.”

She spins around. “You’re right. I think you’re full of crap. And you’re wasting your time.”

“What do I have to do to convince you?”

“Why does it matter?” She glares right at me.

“Because Idocare what you think of me.” There. I said it. I wish I hadn’t, since I don’t enjoy the sense of being reduced to admitting weakness, even something as seemingly inconsequential as that.

She doesn’t so much as flinch. “No, you don’t.”

“That’s not true. I’m sure it makes you feel better about yourself, believing that, but it isn’t true.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re mad you enjoyed your time with me. It makes you feel like a traitor.”

“You don’t know how I feel.” Her rising shoulders tell another story. They’re practically covering her ears.

“I think I do. And that’s why it’s so important to you that I remain the bad guy. You’re looking for a reason to push me away so you can keep thinking of yourself as the hero.”

She arches an eyebrow before giving me a slow golf clap. “Wow. Congrats. You really have me all figured out.”

“The sooner you realize that’s actually true, the easier this will be.”

“The easier what will be? Exactly what do you think is happening here?”

“Stop kidding yourself. You know just as well as I do what could be happening if you would stop being so damn stubborn.” I run a hand through my hair, grappling with the sense of everything slipping through my fingers. “How do you do this to me?”

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