Page 68 of Rough Around the Hedges

This man was unhinged.

He’d lost his ever-loving fucking mind, and God only knew I wanted to beat him with my protest sign until he found it again.

What the fuck was he thinking, giving me his clothes?

Not only were the joggersfartoo big for me, but it wasn’t as if I had a bra to go under his white bloody shirt. Nor could I walk about this McMansion inhisshirt withno bra.

What kind of impression would I make on the poor buggers who had to work for the unreasonable git? That was before I even considered Old Man Bruce. I’d never live it down if he saw me like this.

Alas… I had no choice. My only other option was a terry towelling bathrobe, and I could hardly walk around with absolutely no clothes on beneath that, either.

Nor could I hide forever in this room, as tempting as that sounded right now.

“Ugh,” I grumbled, wrapping the robe around my body and securing the belt at my waist. At least it was long enough that it touched my knees and big enough that it completely hid the shirt beneath it.

It was this or put my trench coat back on.

Somehow, putting a trench coat on over his shirt while not wearing a bra seemed a little too wacky, even for me.

For all the chaos I partook in, playing with fire was not something I was inclined to do, and something told me that putting my coat over Oliver’s shirt was playing with fire.

A wildfire.

In a drought.

I sighed and checked my phone again. Why was I an idiot who hadn’t brought a change of clothes? And why was my best friend an idiot who wasn’t bringing me a change of clothes?

If she was off flirting with someone and leaving me in this predicament, I was going to let Hades shit on her strawberries.

I tossed the phone back on the bed and resigned myself to my fate. I’d already been here for almost two hours—if I waited any longer, not only was I going to look like a coward, but Oliver was probably going to come looking for me.

Letting him find me in a bedroom in my current outfit was not on my bingo card for today.

I took a deep breath and poked my head out of the room, clutching the robe at my chest. Maybe I could convince Oliver to take me home now. Two hours was long enough for me to cool down and swear not to cause any more trouble, wasn’t it? Surely, he’d believe me now.

Ah… it was nice to have dreams.

I scurried along the hallway and down the stairs. I had to get to his office while encountering as few people as possible, and definitely not Bruce. Preferably not that bloody spy of Oliver’s, either.

Although not wanting to encounter that nosy prick had less to do with my attire than it did my general desire to never lay eyes upon his face again.

I reached Oliver’s door having seen only two women dressed in the same outfit Jennie was wearing, and they thankfully paid me no mind. Either they knew about the crazy lady in a bathrobe running loose around the estate or they were professional enough to pretend I didn’t exist, but whatever it was, I was endlessly grateful for them.

I knocked on Oliver’s office door and put my face close to the frame. “Oi. Let me in.”

The door opened slowly, and an eye appeared perfectly in line with mine. I shrieked, jumping backwards, and clutched at both the top and bottom of my robe as the belt loosened.

“You have no manners,” Lucas said, disapproval dripping off every word. “It’s been two hours. What have you been doing?”

“I’ve obviously been investigating the manor to see what secrets I can dig up on your boss,” I replied.

“In that dressing gown?”

“I thought it would look more natural than the black latex bodysuit I had stuffed in my backpack.”

He wrinkled up his face in disgust. “Well, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but—”

“Stop winding her up, Lucas,” Oliver said from inside. “I’m the one who takes the brunt of her temper. Let her in.”

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