Zayden
I couldn’t justify the intense anger I felt in that moment. Just looking at her face was making me want to throw something out the window, and it had taken all the reserve I could muster not to punch that college punk in the face for daring to flirt with her right in front of my eyes.
“Who the fuck was that?” I snapped bitterly.
“I won’t answer until you ask again,” she said defiantly. “More politely.”
The nerve she had to tell me what the fuck to do was pissing me off! I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. She wasn’t going to make this easy, and the angrier I got, the more I needed to find out who that kid was, so he could be banned from the bank premises forever.
“Aria, who was that guy that you agreed to go on a coffee date with?”
“First of all, if you had been listening without the intention of hearing whatever you wanted to, you would realize it’s not a date. We specifically had a conversation about just being friends, and I very calmly and nicely rejected all his other advances.”
“Too nicely. You should have told him to fuck off. I’m going to ask again, who was he?”
She sighed. “Calm down, Zayden. It’s nobody important.”
“It obviously is if you are making plans with him.”
“I make plans with Nick all the time. You know, my roommate, who you thought I was also screwing. That doesn’t bother you.”
“He’s dating your friend. I hardly have anything to worry about there.”
“And you hardly have anything to worry about here either. You heard the whole conversation!”
“I saw how he was looking at you. I know that look… it’s the same one I give you all the time.” I tried to keep my voice from sounding betrayed and pathetic, but I suspected I wasn’t doing a superb job of it.
“Rick is the very last guy on earth I would ever get involved with, I promise you.”
That name sounded familiar. After our first night she had said something about a Dick… I was half passed out from cumming, but I had heard her say something about something about a guy named Dick… Rick. And then it hit me.
Holding on very tightly to my stress ball, I said, “Your ex.”
“Yes, my ex,” she snapped. “Ex. Meaning, in the past. I don’t know if you were paying attention, but that guy hurt me quite a lot. He cheated on me on our anniversary and it took me forever to get over it. I spent the majority of the year hating him.”
“Oh really? How often do you go out for coffee with someone you hate,” I challenged, my fingernails digging through the palm of my hands. The pain was oddly soothing.
“Not very often. But you know what? Before you came along, I would never ever have agreed to be friends with him. Because in some part of me, I still cared. Now I don’t. Because I care about you. And I have no reason to hate him. He almost did me a favor. In some ways, I am grateful… if he hadn’t cheated on me, you and I would have never…”
She stopped, perhaps realizing that she had said more than she intended.
“You can’t talk to him anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are not allowed to go anywhere near that guy.”
She flared her nostrils. “You can’t tell me who I can or cannot talk to. You think you own me?”
“Actually, I kind of do,” I spat. “In this regard, anyway. It’s in the contract. Section 9. You’re not allowed to engage in any sort of relationship – platonic or otherwise – with a man I disapprove of. And I assure you, I disapprove of this guy.”
She opened her mouth in anger and closed it again. Tears were now freely streaming down her face, her mascara running down her cheeks. I didn’t want her to cry. But more importantly, I didn’t want her talking to that guy.
She looked like she wanted to say something a few times but changed her mind. After standing there in silence for a few minutes, she stormed out of the office.
People had definitely witnessed the production, and I worried about being insulted by my own employees. I did not need this kind of attention. Why did I care who she spoke to, anyway? She was just some girl I had contracted to win a challenge in my own head, yet this whole ordeal made me feel extremely vulnerable. So much so that I had e
nded up creating a scene at work; something that had never, ever happened, in my entire career.