Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
He opens the door abruptly for me despite his anger. I climb in and he slams the door hard before he walks around and gets in to start the car with a large rev of the engine.
I glance over at him. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.
He tears out of the parking lot at full speed and I hang on for dear life. Oh hell, get off the road, we’re all going to die.
“Slow down!” I cry.
He pushes in the code of the security gates, and the door slowly rises up.
He stares straight ahead. I can see his jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth together.
Oh fuck.
The gates rise, and he screeches out onto the road at full speed.
“What is your fucking problem?” he snaps as his furious eyes flick to me.
“Watch the road!” I screech. He changes gears fast, overtaking two cars. I cling onto the dashboard for dear life. “You’re the problem,” I cry as I watch the oncoming traffic zoom by. “You treat me like crap, don’t call me for two whole years, and then turn up in a nightclub. I go home with you like you’re a fucking rock star. I’m disgusted with myself.”
“I told you why I treated you the way I did.” He changes the gears again and I grip my seatbelt.
“Will you slow down?”
He stares at the road.
“Why didn’t you call me all this time? If you wanted to see me, why didn’t you just call me?”
“Because you wouldn’t have come! I told you that. Listen to me when I speak, woman.”
I throw my hands up in the air. This is pointless. He’s an arrogant bastard.
“Well, I’m not staying. I’m taking the job in New York. How dare you think you can just wave your magic dick around and I’ll be putty in your hands?”
His glances at me. “I didn’t see you too angry last night when you were riding my magic dick,” he sneers. “In fact, you moaned on it all fucking night.”
“See?” I shake my head around in disgust. “It’s this arrogant fucking asshole attitude that turns me off you.”
He punches the steering wheel hard, and I jump. “You haven’t seen a fucking asshole yet, Olivia.” The veins are prominent in his neck. “Don’t fucking push me!” he growls.
“Stop it!” I scream. “You’re being crazy.”
“You make me fucking crazy,” he yells.
“Let me out of the car. This was a big mistake. I wish I never laid eyes on you.”
He glares over at me. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”
He pulls into a parking space at my hotel. I get out and slam the door hard. He tears off into the distance. I watch the car disappear to the sound of his tires screeching, and then I look up to see everyone has stopped and is staring after him.
Hmm, that went well.
I drop my head and continue my walk of shame.
Great.
The thing about bastards is that they get under your skin. They’re like a poisonous rash.
Insidious, festering, and begging for attention.
I don’t feel like I have that I won the fight feeling.
It’s Monday afternoon, and I haven’t heard from him.
I mean, I don’t want to. It’s not like I’m checking my phone every ten minutes or anything. I pick my phone up and check it again.
No missed calls. I exhale heavily.
Asshole.
I spent yesterday afternoon with Natalie analyzing this situation over copious amounts of alcohol and tapas in a bar.
She thinks I’m being a drama queen—that his father had died, and he wasn’t thinking straight back then. She thinks him bringing me here is romantic.
She thinks this is a second chance love story waiting to happen.
I think he’s a control freak.
Part of me wishes I handled yesterday differently—that I just sat and talked to him.
Why was I so angry? I acted like a crazy person.
And why was he so fucking angry? He acted like no woman had ever asked to leave before.
Probably haven’t.
I glance at the clock and see it’s 5:00 p.m. I’ve achieved nothing today. Giorgio isn’t even here because he’s in New York working for the week. I can’t wait to tell him about my weekend from Hell.
This is one fucked-up situation.
I close down my computer, pack up my desk, and make my way downstairs.
I’m supposed to be going to the gym but a bar of chocolate seems much more enticing.
I walk out of the building and glance up to see a black Ferrari parked across the street. Rico is standing beside it, his behind resting on the door. His eyes are locked on me.
My heart skips a beat at the sight of him. Just go and speak to him. Be an adult.
I cross the road and approach the car. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
The wind blows my hair around, and I tuck it behind my ears. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”