Page 18 of Captivated By You

“Give me a sec to read it, Mom.”

She peered over my shoulder as I scanned the page.

Holy cow!

They’d offered me the job.

What kind of fuckery was this? It hadn’t come from that Forster guy, though. The CEO himself had sent it. There it was, right at the bottom. A scrawling signature, and underneath, the wordsAsher Kingcaid, CEO, Kingcaid Hotels Inc.

“You got it!” Mom squealed, but at my lethargic response, her face fell. “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t actually take this job, Mom.”

“Why not?”

“Duh. Because the manager felt me up.” I rolled my eyes. “Can’t see our professional relationship working out somehow, can you?”

“I’m not a complete idiot, Kiana. But don’t you see? You’ve already let the man win by refusing to go to the police. Are you going to allow him to control your career, too?”

I stared at her, appalled. “You’re actually encouraging me to work for a company where the manager thinks it’s perfectly okay to feel up women? And what? I have to spend my days skipping out of the way of his wandering hands? Sounds like a blast.”

She shook her head. “They’ll have an HR department, Kiana. Report him.”

I sighed. “It’s never that easy, Mom.”

Mom flattened her lips. “So what you’re actually saying is that I raised a daughter who will allow life to trample all over her and just lie down and take it?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Is that right?” She breathed out through her nose. “All you’re doing is repeating the mistakes of three years ago. Is that who you want to be, Kiana?”

My jaw flexed. She’d gone there. She’dactuallygone there and mentioned the unmentionable. She’d waved the red rag, and like a bull on the charge, I went for it.

“Terrific. My own mother thinks I’m a weakling and a failure. Gee, thanks a bunch.” I stormed past her and stomped up the stairs. But, in true me fashion, by the time I slammed my bedroom door and flopped onto the bed, my temper had withered.

I hated arguing with Mom, and while she’d made valid points, I couldn’t take this job. Not knowing what I did about Forster.

I scanned the letter again. They’d given me an email address to send my acceptance to. Presumptuous. I grabbed my phone and typed out my rejection of the offer. My finger hovered over the Send button.

Could I handle Forster? Maybe a sharp word on my first day would set the boundaries of what was acceptable?

No. It wouldn’t work. Men like him didn’t understand demarcation lines, no matter how deeply scored.

I pressed Send.

There. Done.

A tap sounded on my door and Mom came in, her mouth turned down at the edges. I scrambled upright and forced my lips into a smile that doubled as an apology. “I declined the position.”

Mom nodded, perching on the edge of my bed. She stroked my hair. “You’re my daughter all right. A quick temper that shrivels fast.”

“Unlike Louis and Mason.” My twin brothers could keep the fires of rage burning for days.

“They take after your father.”

I winced. “I hope you’re talking about my real dad, not that sperm donor loser.” Mom’s pained expression tore at my heart. “Sorry, Mom.”

“He wasn’t a well man, Kiana, but he loved you. He loved all of you.”

“Just not enough, right?”

My birth father had left us when I was five, the twins eight. He’d had some kind of mental breakdown, and he’d just… walked. And the worst part was that I’d never been able to shake the feeling that I hadn’t been enough. His love for me hadn’t been enough for him to seek help and support, and just fucking stay.

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