Page 20 of Tempting All The Way

“That’s because it’s a stupid rule, Xavier. You need to eat lunch just as much as the next person.”

“You know, if you hated me as much as you pretend to, you wouldn’t care whether I starved or not,” I tell her.

“I only make sure you’re fed because you pay my salary. If you starve yourself to death, I’m out of a jobagain,” she attempts to reason with me.

“Well, fuck, that actually makes sense.”

“Can we just pretend it never happened? Itshouldn’thave happened. We both know it. And it most certainlycan’thappen again,” she pleads.

“You can try to pretend if you want.”

“You are infuriatingly impossible, you know that? I can see why you do so well in court. I bet the judge gets tired of hearing you talk nonsense and just lets you win to get you out of the courtroom.”

I laugh. “That’s not really how any of that works, babe.”

“Shar.For the millionth time, my name is Shar,” she grits out between her teeth.

“I know what your name is.”

“Then use it.”

“I likebabebetter.”

“Rule number sixteen: No pet names or nicknames. You are to address me as Mr Christianson only,” she says in a voice that I’m once again assuming is meant to be mocking my own.

“If you know the rules so damn well, why don’t you try following them.”

“Ah, because they’re stupid. Really, what secretary gave you pet names? Or danced in the office?”

“A lot of them tried the pet names. That’s why that one got added. And as for the dancing, one attempted to offer me a strip tease once.”

“Seriously?” Her face scrunches up in disgust. “I mean, I can see how if you’re walking around giving your secretaries orgasms and calling thembabe,they’d think they could strip in front of you.”

“I’ve never given any of my employees an orgasm—well, apart from you.” I smirk. “And never once called any of them by anything other than their names.”

“Well, gee, don’t I feel damn special,” she sasses.

“You should.”

“Oh my god, can you drive any quicker? I need to get out of this car.”

“How’re you feeling? Do you want me to stop at a chemist? Get you something for that headache?”

“What headache?” she asks.

“You said you had to leave because you felt a headache coming on.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I’m good. I just need to sleep.”

We drive in silence the rest of the way. When I pull up out front of her apartment building, I take in the sketchy neighbourhood. This is where she lives?

“What the hell?” Shardonnay rushes from the car.

“Fuck.” I don’t know what has her running up the sidewalk, but I don’t think twice before chasing after her. “What the fuck, Shardonnay?” I question when I catch up to her.

She’s stopped at the front of a building that’s been blocked off by yellow and orange tape with the words DO NOT ENTER printed across it. Shardonnay goes to duck under the tape, and my arms wrap around her waist and pull her back.

“What are you doing?”

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