Page 19 of Kandi's Crush: A BWWM Sweet Billionaire Romance

“No. The only person interested in me getting a law degree is my father. I have no desire to follow in Martin St. Clair, Esquire’s footsteps and become a lawyer and CEO.” There was more than a little sarcasm in his tone. “I’m not taking over St. Clair either. I will finish construction here and have the spaces ready for the market. After that, I’ll start the next project.

“Have you started networking for a full-time job?” he asked, surveying every inch of my face. “Quad is a vice president at one of the ‘big four’ firms. And there’s always St. Clair. I’m sure there would be something for you in the Corporate Finance department. I can put in a good word for you.”

It was nice to have someone willing to go to bat for me. I pushed my dreams of corporate domination out of my thoughts. I’d committed to work at Scrub-A-Dub, and I intended to honor that commitment. I fixated on an invisible stain on the countertop as I answered.

“Come January, I’ll be a full-time employee at Scrub-A-Dub. This is my life.”

“Is that what you really want to do?” He cast a questioning glance.

I shrugged my shoulders because I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

“Help me understand. In six months, you will graduate, with honors, from one of the country’s top business schools. Why on earth would you want to clean toilets for the rest of your life?”

Ouch! The question ripped me to my core and hit way too close to home. The phrase ‘wasted potential’ sprung to mind. My professors and classmates had been so excited for an update on my post-graduation plans, but my answer had made their excited smiles fade into looks of confusion and disappointment. My classmates would do big things while I fell back on good old faithful—working for my mother.

I vowed not to let him shame or upset me. This was my life—good, bad, or indifferent. I pushed my shoulders back and held my head high.

“Cleaning is honest work. You fail to acknowledge my role as a director in New Orleans’ premier cleaning service. We provide a service to the community. Scrub-A-Dub employs workers who don’t have the education or access to traditional employment. The people we hire don’t have mothers with small businesses or access to trust funds.”

The intensity of my tone seemed to catch him off guard. He blinked and reared back in his chair. My words came out harsher than I intended, and I immediately regretted it. The words had sprung from a place of deep hurt. For one second, I considered apologizing but decided against it. Sometimes you had to be true to yourself and let the words fly.

I’d expected Chadwick to understand my sense of duty and obligation. He understood the pressures of being pushed into the family business. I didn’t want him to view me through the same lens as everyone else.

He stood and walked toward me, but I raised both hands to stop him. He stopped in place and eyed me intently. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he took a long swallow. The heat bloomed from my chest to my neck, arms, and face.

“I’m all done here,” I continued, sneering slightly. “The fridge is stocked. I completed the dusting. I watered the plants. ?And your toilet is clean.”

I grabbed my backpack from the sectional and stalked to the elevator before turning to face him.

“I’ll see you on Monday morning.”

“Kandace . . . Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

I turned away as a teardrop gathered in my eye. I refused to let the tear fall. Sniffling and tapping my foot, I waited for the slow ass elevator to arrive.

A firm hand gripped my elbow. Chadwick pulled me against the firm expanse of his muscular chest, and the steel of his arms surrounded me from behind. I sank reluctantly into the intimacy of his embrace, shivering at the warmth of his breath against my ear. My nipples hardened until they hurt, and I became angered by my body’s betrayal.

“Come here,” he murmured, his arms tightening around me.

“I’m fine.” The tears collected until there was no more room and finally spilled from the corner of my eye.

“No. You’re not fine.” He gripped me by the shoulders and turned me to face him. He paled at the sight of my tears. Placing a finger on my chin, he gently tilted my head to meet his gaze. Several tears rolled down my cheeks, and he brushed away each one. His words were soft and soothing. “I’m an asshole. There’s no excuse for my insensitive remark. You and your family work hard, while my life has been one of privilege. Please accept my apologies.”

He pulled me closer against him. The taut muscles of his chest and arms caged me in, and the iciness of my demeanor melted in the warmth of his embrace. His clean, male scent intoxicated me, and the barrier I’d created collapsed.

Years of having a crush on him came back strong. This was wrong, yet so right. But I couldn’t allow it to go any further. I straightened my back and shrugged out of his arms.

By some act of divine intervention, the elevator arrived without incident.

“Apology accepted, Chadwick. I got to go.” I took one more look at him before boarding the elevator. “Have a good weekend.”

He rushed over to the elevator and stuck his hand between the doors, blocking them from closing. His eyes met mine.

“I don’t think you should drive while you’re upset.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Maybe saying it twice will make it true.

“I’ll ride down with you.”

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