Page 74 of Under the Mistletoe
“I mean, does she suck your dick while you attend conference calls… because I could use that kind of support… Fuck, I bet she—”
He doesn’t get to finish as my fist flies into his nose instantly.
His head snaps back so suddenly, it looks like it almost falls completely off his neck as he staggers, seemingly unprepared for it.
“You need to watch your mouth. You can say what you like about me. You can talk shit about my business, but her name stays out of your fucking mouth.”
I’ve never been this furious, never had this much rage filling me up as I do right now.
“Marcus, go get some ice and stop with the insults.” Bentley steps forward, putting himself between us, like a father scolding his sons. Good idea, too, because I was getting ready to punch that fucker again.
“Fuck you.” Marcus has blood running down his mouth, his teeth a healthy shade of pink.
“He deserved it,” I tell Bentley as Marcus leaves.
“He sure did. But you need to be careful. This is business, and you can’t let your personal feelings interfere. Besides, now he’ll turn up tonight sporting a black eye, no doubt.” Bentley scrubs his eyes, and I grin, happy that asshole will have my stamp on his face for at least another week.
“I’ll see you later, Bentley.” I give him a nod and walk out, straight to the elevator and my room. I am itching to see Jessica, especially now.
The elevator takes forever, and I stride out the minute it opens and walk straight down the hall. I push through the door, throwing my jacket on the sideboard.
“Jessica?” I call out. Our room is a large luxury suite, but I find the living room empty, clean and tidy from housekeeping.
“Jessica?” I call out again as I undo my cuff links and walk through to our bedroom. But it’s quiet. The bedroom is vacant.
“Jessica?” I yell again, walking toward the bathroom, expecting to possibly find her in the shower. But it’s empty.
I toss my cuff links on the dresser and grab my phone to call her. She should’ve been back already.
She should be here.
31
Jessica
Longest day ever. I rush into the hotel and hit the elevator, in desperate need of a shower and having only ten minutes left to get ready before we need to leave for the gala. People are milling around, some I recognize from the business meetings this week, and I try not to look like the harried mess that I am.
I grab my phone out of habit before I throw it back in my bag, my shoulders tightening. It went dead hours ago. The connection was lost. At first, I thought it was due to my location. Now that I’m back in the city and I’m still not picking up a signal, I know my international roaming just isn’t working. I smell a rat.
“I’m here.” I rush into the room, throwing my bag and jacket off immediately, not wanting to make Donovan late for this formal business event we have tonight to end our trip.
“Jessica? Where have you been?” Donovan rushes to me, looking frantic. “I was calling you.” His eyes scan me from head to toe as his hands roam over my body, ensuring I’m intact.
“I’m fine. But my phone signal was out. I couldn't make calls or receive them. I don’t think my international sim card is working very well,” I tell him, showing him my phone, and his brow furrows. I don’t tell him my thoughts on the fact that I believe Ashley has set me up to fail this week. He doesn’t need that drama on him.
“But I called the driver, who told me he left you at the factory, and he was told you had alternative transport back?”
I’m fuming. This is all Ashley's doing. Making my first trip with Donovan utter chaos all week.
“Well, I waited for the driver who didn’t come. Luckily, Mario at the factory drove me to the train and I had some euros to buy a ticket back here. I just walked here from the station.”
He blinks at me in surprise. “Train? What?” Now I’m not the only one who’s fuming. He doesn’t like me taking public transport at the best of times, but especially here in a foreign country with no cell phone service.
“Yeah, well, this week hasn’t been smooth sailing for me, that’s for sure.”
Ashley not adding me to the hotel booking so I couldn’t enter the room when we arrived and not answering my call when I tried to get in touch with her. I had to wait in the lobby for Donovan to turn up three hours later before I could get into the room. Me missing a conference call and Donovan livid. The next night Ashley failed to add me to the RSVP list for a corporate function, leaving Donovan and me standing there with no seats. I was mortified. And while the media have been in my face all week, when they followed me from a private meeting with a supplier straight back to the hotel, it was obvious someone tipped them off. No one else knew about that meeting.
“I’ll call HR. This entire week has been chaos for you, all because of Ashley.”
