Page 31 of The Opposite Effect

The blonde crosses her arms under her impressive rack. “Isaac is a businessman, Clara. His priorities remain focused on his empire, leaving me the task of ensuring the trash is placed on the curb.”

“Trash?”

“Yeah.Trash,” her neighbor replies, drawing out the derogatory word in a long hiss. “You are nothing but a vindictive little bitch who is about to be taught a precious lesson.”

Ouch! Even my ego got slapped by that catty remark.

Though she copped a low blow, in true Clara style, she straightens her spine and gives as good as she’s getting. “Well, I have news for you,sweetheart…”

I grin, loving that she used a term of endearment as if it is an offensive word.

“The only person going to be taught a valuable lesson is you. You can act all high and mighty in your designer pantsuits, sipping expensive wine from a crystal flute in your fancy top-floor penthouse, but at the end of the day, you’re no better than me.” Clara takes a step closer to her neighbor, meeting her eye to eye. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Regan, because when Isaac finds out about thespecial guestyou’ve beenentertainingthe past two months, it’s all going to come tumbling down, one Chanel suit at a time.”

After flashing a sly grin, Clara enters her apartment without a backward glance. I remain motionless, standing in the foyer with my mouth gaped open and my cock as hard as stone.

There’s nothing as compelling as a feisty princess standing her ground.

I’m not the only one rendered into silence by Clara’s gutsy tirade. Her neighbor stands just as muted as me.

Several seconds of dense awkwardness pass before Regan shifts her eyes to me. “You should be cautious about messing with a woman like Clara,” she warns, her tone not as snarky as the one she used while tussling with Clara.

A grin tugs my lips higher. “I could say the same to you.”

Regan doesn’t attempt to refute my statement because you can’t deny the truth.

CHAPTER TEN

Ijerk my chin up in greeting to Penny—the nurse my grandma tried to set me up with three months ago—before I continue striding down the corridor of Caramine Care.

Although Penny has the naughty-nurse getup down pat, I’m glad I steered clear of her tempting offer. I’ve got enough on my plate with a certain feisty princess to be adding any more into the mix.

I knocked on Clara’s door for a good ten minutes last night, only to be asked to leave through a crack the width of an inch. I only left when she guaranteed me she wouldn’t take the bus to work on Tuesday. Even though she agreed to my demand, I have an inkling she won’t adhere to my advice.

She better, or she will find out the hard way that I’m a man of my word.

Just as I’m about to enter my grandmother’s room, the quickest glimpse of a profile stops me in my tracks. Clara just exited a door a few spots down from my grandma’s room. She stops halfwaydown the corridor to chat with a man in a navy-blue suit and a white doctor’s coat.

A woman of Clara’s caliber could never be referred to as dowdy, but with her pale face and red rims around her eyes, her usually bright appearance is a little more tarnished than normal. Even tired, her beauty can’t deter her male companion’s longing glance at her backside as she saunters away from him.

Clara’s composure is so off-kilter, she doesn’t notice me gawking at her as she strides down the narrow hallway. Even stepping into her path doesn’t slow her brisk pace.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her voice barely recognizable as she sidesteps me and continues for the door.

Her brisk pace only falters when I ask, “Why are you in such a hurry, Princess?”

Her hands dart up to rub her face before she slowly spins to face me. I take a step back, uneased by the look on her face. Bitchy, hormonal women I can handle, but a crying one? Not so much.

Acting purely on impulse, I draw her into my chest and guide her into my grandma’s room. Thankfully, the room is empty. Clara stiffens like a board the instant I curl my arms around her shoulders, but surprisingly, she doesn’t fight against my hold. I expected her to shove me away or yell at me to “get my filthy beast hands off her.” But she does nothing. She just accepts my comfort without a single qualm spilling from her lips.

Hell must have frozen over.

I’m confident she can hear my heart hammering my ribs, but I don’t care. I continue to hold her in as tightly to my body as I can, relishing a moment of reprieve from the bickering we’ve endured the past three months.

My bliss doesn’t last long.

“Let me just grab my coat then… oh, hello, Brax,” my grandma greets me with her rheumy eyes bouncing between mine before they lower to Clara plastered against my torso.

Clara freezes before pulling away from my embrace. Her red-rimmed eyes stare into mine for numerous heart-clutching seconds before she swings them to my grandma standing in the doorway. The whiteness of her face grows when her eyes absorb my grandma’s flushed cheeks and gaping mouth. “I’m sorry.”

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