Page 51 of Bound By My Father's Best Friend

“Yes,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “He said that there was nothing I can do.”

I arched a brow. “Are you lying to me?”

She sucked in her inner cheek. “No …”

“That’s an awfully drawn-out response.”

After sighing, she looked over at me, hair a mess on the pillows. “Fine, I did. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

She fumbled with her fingers, then turned on her side to face me. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“He did say that I could do something, but I hate him, so it’s not happening. I’m not going to stoop that low.”

“What’d he say?”

When shestilldidn’t want to tell me, I pulled my head back slightly and looked over at her. If he’d asked her to doanythinginappropriate after failing her for perfect goddamn code, then I would do more than get him fired from the university.

“Tell me,” I said softly. “What’d he say?”

“He said that he’d give me a good grade if I could get him an interview at your company. Don’t worry?—”

“Deal.”

“What?”

“I’ll let him interview with the company.”

“Are you kidding me?!” She sat up. “You’re really going to give him an interview?”

I pulled her back to me. “Yes.”

“That asshole doesn’t deserve it. I would rather fail his class three times over.”

“Well, I’m not going to let that happen.”

He would have an interview with me next week. Not because he would ever get a job at my company. Because I wanted to embarrass that dickhead so hard in front of Heather that he walked out of my office with his pants pissed and all of Heather’s grades corrected.

“Hector, you don’t have to do that for me,” she said. “We can?—”

“Next Monday at three p.m.” My lips curled into a smirk. “Tell him not to be late.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

HEATHER

Saturday morning,I walked through the busy mall in Robinson with Hector holding a few bags of designer clothes for me.

“What are you smiling about?” I asked, glancing over at him.

This might or might not have been the first time we were out where a bunch of people could see us, together and sorta like a date. Okay, it definitely wasn’t a date … maybe … but apparently, it’d become a shopping spree for Hector.

To get me clothes.

“Nothing,” he hummed, spotting another upscale boutique. “Come on.”

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