Bad Girl

As I keep reading, I see my guess of his age is right. There really aren't any details left out. It even says how Warren takes his coffee. Chris doesn't miss anything.

“There’s not much about his personal life.” I pull my eyes away from the folder.

“The man is married to his work. It’s all he cares about.” No wonder he’s willing to step on anyone that gets in his way. “Like I said, you need to memorize everything.”

“That won’t be a problem.” I remember everything. Sometimes I think it’s a gift. Other times it’s more of a curse. One I don’t let anyone know I hold. People act differently around you when they realize you remember every detail no matter how small.

I’ve learned to hide it over the years. Pretending to write down the orders when I waitressed or even making sure I didn't score too high on my course work. I wanted to be normal. Like everyone else. Even when I tried to be, it never worked.

“Your badge.” Chris tosses it across the table. I grab it. “I hope you have something nicer to wear than that.” He assesses my outfit.

“I’ve got it handled,” I lie, standing up from my chair.

“Keep that phone on you at all times,” he reminds me for the millionth time.

“Got it,” I say before I head out of his office. The plan is in place.

The only thing I have to do is make this Warren guy pay.

Chapter Two

Warren

“Warren, the Kelso papers need to be signed.”

“Mr. Holmes, the city inspector called to tell you there’s a problem with the March property.”

“Mr. Holmes, there’s a call for you on line three. It’s Mary Risling from the Daily Telegraph. They’re nominating you for an entrepreneur award, and she wants to get a statement from you.”

“War, there’s a woman here who says you left your phone at her house last night.”

I stop at that last one, whispered in my ear by my assistant, Connor. “I was in the office until ten and then went home to my penthouse. Better look into it. I’ll see her if I need to.”

Connor gives me a nod, but when he falls away, I’m mobbed. Papers are thrust into my face. A cell phone appears out of thin air and a Bluetooth headset is pressed into my ear. I tuck the papers under my arm, grab a coffee from someone whose face I don’t recognize and power forward into my office.

“It’s an honor I don’t deserve, Mary. Tell your paper to give it to someone else.”

“It’s already been done. Plaque’s engraved,” the reporter coos into my ear. “I’ll deliver it myself after I pick it up tomorrow. Say around seven?”

“I run in the mornings.” I page through the notes about the inspector’s complaints. Damn. The March property was going to be a big, multimillion dollar deal, but if the ground is unstable and foundations are sinking, I might have to walk away. The riverfront property is so damn enticing though.

“I meant evening.”

“I know what you meant. I’m not accepting the damn award.” I hang up. “Connor, get me Solid Engineering. I want to see if we can shore up the foundation.”

“On it!” he calls from the outer office.

The Kelso contract is perfect. I sign and call out for Connor, but he’s on the phone. A girl dressed in blue is standing right outside my door. The coffee girl. The one I didn’t recognize. The one that made my dick harden under the superfine Italian wool pants. I’m going to have to fire her. I crook my finger.

She looks over her shoulder and then points to herself, mouthing, Me?

“Yes. Come,” I command.

She steps into my office and starts to close the door. My dick swells again.

“No,” I order sharply. “Leave the door open.”

The last thing I need is for a hot young thing that makes my cock twitch closing the door and making my body feel like we’re about to get some action.

“No need to be testy,” the girl replies.

Her sharp retort stuns me into silence. I recover quickly though. “Fine. Whatever. You’re fired.” I can’t risk her working here, but if she wasn’t working here any longer, that might work.

“You can’t fire me,” she retorts. “I’m a temp worker.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. How can I be forced to pay someone I don’t want?” I spot Connor zipping past the doorway. “Connor, get in here.”

He sticks his head in the door. “You called?”

“I’m firing this girl, and she tells me I can’t because she’s a temp worker.”

Connor sucks some air between his teeth, a sure sign he’s about to say something that will piss me off. “Technically she’s not wrong. We can only call the temporary agency and tell them that we aren’t happy with the worker they’ve sent. She still remains in their employ, but she can be removed from these premises.”