Page 10 of Cinderella Hired for His Revenge

“Clearly.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to summon what little strength she had before giving up. What did it matter if Grant saw her as she was feeling tonight—defeated, lonely and on the verge of giving up? He loathed her. She didn’t need to try and impress him. She would never get back in his good graces.

“I’m sorry, Grant. I hurt you.”

He stared at her for a long moment.

“You did.”

Not a hint of inflection in his deep, accented voice.

“I know.”I did it because I loved you. “It might be hard to believe, but I am happy for you. I’m struggling right now with my business, but—” she waved a hand around at the shelves stacked with books “—personally, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. That’s more than a lot of people have.” She forced a small smile. “Eventually, my head will catch up to my heart and I’ll focus more on the blessings I do have.” She started to stand. “But right now, unless you have something else to say, I’m going to say good-night. I have a busy day tomorrow and—”

“The Pearson Group would like to hire The Flower Bell.”

CHAPTER FOUR

GRANTWATCHEDASAlexandra slowly sat back in her chair, her eyes wide with shock. He silently cursed. He’d planned on going about things very differently tonight, coming in more aggressively. But when she’d started to leave, unwanted sympathy and a hint of apprehension had pushed the words out of his mouth.

He’d spent the past nine years singularly focused on his career. Emotions like anger and jealousy had no place in his life. The two relationships he’d had over the years had been pleasant enough. He’d ended his time with Michelle, an accountant for a film production firm, when she’d started hinting at her favorite cut of diamond. Lindsay, a wildlife photographer, had texted him from Madagascar to apologize. She’d met someone and she hadn’t seen him in three months anyway, so hopefully he wasn’t too put out.

He’d written a brief text that had gone beyond his initial thoughts ofnot put out at all.

So when he’d walked into the bookstore and seen a dark-haired man with his hand covering Alexandra’s, the jealousy that had unfurled in his chest and roared with a primal howl had been unexpected.

Unexpected and very much unwanted.

Even if he had wanted to rekindle his romance with Alexandra—which he reminded himself very sternly he did not—he would never be able to trust her. Not after the abrupt about-face, the vile words she’d hurled at him, getting him fired and to top it all off, dating Mr. Named-After-a-Car the day after their breakup.

But when he’d seen her there, looking so sad and being comforted by another man, he’d wanted to toss her over his shoulder, stalk out in the rain to the nearest cab, throw her in and take her back to his place to demand all the answers he’d never received before kissing her senseless.

Suspicion whispered across the back of his neck. Despite the red haze of fury coating his gaze when he’d seen the photos on Instagram of her and Royce, there had been something about her posture, a strain in her smile, that had seemed off.

He gave himself a mental shake. All these years and he was still searching for answers when the truth was right in front of him. Alexandra had been a rich, spoiled brat who had used him for a fling, and with the summer drawing to a close, had chosen to return to her life of luxury.

“You want to hire me?”

He scowled. He’d expected a little more gratitude, even a relieved smile, not misgivings. He’d had his driver go by her shop first, then her home address when they’d passed by the dark windows of The Flower Bell. He’d wanted to deliver the news in person, savor her gratefulness in her rundown store or her tiny little apartment situated behind a string of shops, let her meager environment punctuate the generosity of his offer.

And instead, he’d nearly lost his iron grip on his emotions and was now prodding her to accept.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He tamped down his irritation so he didn’t overplay his hand.

“Your proposal was strong and your arrangement unique. Our event planner, Laura Jones, reached out to three of her florist contacts for competitive bids. One didn’t deliver by the deadline, one submitted ideas I could find in a grocery store and the third, while unique, listed a price triple that of yours. Ms. Jones was impressed by your work, as was I.”

A sentiment he meant, even if his offer of employment came with ulterior motives. He wouldn’t make a job offer if she didn’t have something to offer him in return. Revenge alone was not worth risking everything he had poured into his company.

Alexandra’s lips parted. His eyes darted down, then swept back up to meet her gaze.

“I can’t believe Ms. Jones picked me.”

The awed innocence in her voice made his blood boil. The woman belonged on Broadway. She’d seduced him with the same wide-eyed, naive act. Not only would he not be fooled again, but this time when their association came to an end, she would be the one left with regrets.

He tamped down his anger and smoothed his face into a cold mask as he started to stand.

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