Page 3 of Dissension

Maria wisely scurries away, dusting sparkling surfaces as she evacuates the scene.

Exhale. Slower. Don’t blow up at him. He’s paying Gale’s legal fees to help keep Dad out of the slammer for the time being. Plus, he’s your best paycheck in years. Behave, Kara, behave…

“Dieter, I’m your third-string lawyer, not your servant. It isn’tmy jobto hire your housing staff. Where is your staff manager? I’ll get this straightened out with herfor you.” It’s too early for this madness. Her head begins to ache.

Displeasure continues coloring his features. It seems Dieter is committed to being wretched this morning. “She quit two weeksago. I sent you a goddamn memo about it, expecting you to fix it. Why is it not fixed?”

Kara feels her face shift in further disbelief. She remembers the email, and she’d darn well thought it was just him complaining. She wants to shake him, but she also wants to walk into the nearby sunroom and go back to sleep on one of those lovely cream couches. He lets her do that sometimes. “I didn’t realize that was part of my job description. Hiring people for you. As I said, I can’t-”

Dietrich’s face reddens faintly. “Gale would do it for me.”

Oh ho…she is not going to play this game. Not with him. Kara turns on her heel, exhausted, grouchy, and angry. Above all, she needs a damn coffee. Her brain is positively screeching for it. “Call Gale. I’m not stopping you.”

You don’t understand,Gale had told her before she left for another trip to Arizona. I’m his therapist, his mother, and his lawyer. He’s one of those nightmare clients that makes you rich, but he’ll test your sanity. He’s high maintenance. He will expect you to take on many roles in his life.

Yeah, that’s clearly no joke.

He makes a noise between a growl and a sigh. In the distance, Maria scurries between two rooms quickly, as if her speed of movement will keep her safe from his displeasure. It’s almost comical. Kara strides towards the front door, intent on going to find herself food when she hears him say, “Where are you going? Who is going to feed me?”

One of the more appalling things Kara has learned about Dieter since she first started working for him isn’t just that he’s a vicious brat of a man.Oh no. It’s the fact that he’s one of those rich men who grew up being waited on hand and foot. His parents had servants that cooked, cleaned, and raised the family in their stead. His mother was barely present for anything family related, as if she didn’t have a family at all.

Dietrich Bittinger has never been responsible for doing anything mundane in his life. Or rather, things he considers mundane. Cooking for himself is apparently one of those things.

“Order in like a normal human being,” Kara says dryly. “Have Maria get you fast food.”

He looks like a petulant boy, mouth twisted in confusion, eyes a terrible mix of indignant and lost. It makes it hard to stay mad at him.

Kara decides to take pity in that moment and sighs like the whole world is sitting on her shoulders. Dropping her purse onto the cream-wood side table, elegantly topped with some form of decorative stone, Kara rasps, “Dear God, Dietrich. Let’s go to the kitchen.”

Turning down the hall, Kara ignores the wall full of trophies from his various equestrian sports, his business accolades, and the austere family portraits. She especially ignores the large sepia portrait of Saoirse Bittinger, international supermodel. Dieter’s icy-eyed mother.

He follows Kara as she makes her way towards the kitchen. “My kitchen? Why, are you going to conjure a goddamn cook and head of house staff for me? Draw a pentagram with some chalk? Need some goddamn candles?”

Trying to not laugh at him, biting her lip to keep a stern expression, Kara replies, “No, I’m going to make breakfast. As it happens, I’m hungry and need some coffee and eggs. You interrupted my sleep with yourcrisis.”

He rolls his eyes.

It’s a disturbing fact that Kara has spent more time in Dietrich’s company these past few months than she ever did with Nick. There’s a hollow ache in her chest at the thought. She knows why of course; Nick was never really hers to begin with.

…and he neverwantedto be.

Chapter 2

All things considered, it’s a spectacular kitchen. Triple the size of Kara’s own.

Dieter leans against the doorway, looking bored as he gazes within. “Make yourself at home, chickadee.”

She makes a face, hearing his nickname for her.

“Bigger than my damn bedroom,” Kara mutters, enviously gazing at the beautiful countertops and stunning cabinetry. She starts looking around for pots and pans, yanking them out of the cupboards, laying them out in preparation.

Mostly, she can’t believe she’s doing this, but another part of her likes having the opportunity to impress him. Taking care of him is another thing that always gets him to ‘soften up’. He likes being taken care of, the nasty, power-hungry exec.I can’t believe him. This is not a crisis. But, can’t beat a free coffee. Unless it’s shitty coffee. But there’s no way his former kitchen staff stocked shitty coffee.

Wordlessly, he watches her flit around the giant, oversized kitchen, watching her with that flat expression on his face, eyes half-lidded, arms crossed. When he catches her staring back at him, the corner of his mouth twitches, faint amusement in the gesture. His gaze remains icy; he’s not entirely pleased with her executive decision to take over his kitchen. Dieter likes getting his way and Kara isn’t always inclined to let him have it.

Like now, for instance.

Seeing that he has no intention of making this easy, Kara puts her hand on her hip and asks snidely, “I don’t suppose you could be of some use and tell me where the coffee is?”

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