Bad Girl

“Yes, sir,” I say in my sweetest voice.

He sucks in a deep breath. “Don’t push it.” The doors slide open a moment later, thankfully. I step off and go directly to my desk. Warren goes straight into his office. A few minutes later he comes out with a binder in his hands.

“I need three copies of each of these contracts.” He drops them down on my desk. He doesn’t say another word to me. He turns and walks back into his office, slamming the door behind him.

I smile, thumbing through the contracts and wondering if I already have something good.

Chapter Four

Warren

“Taking drugs from somebody you barely know. What a naïve fool. She should be locked up!” I rant in the privacy of my office. The girl is going to end up kidnapped and locked in some madman’s dungeon by the end of the week. It’s a miracle she’s survived this long without me.

I shove an angry hand through my hair. If she’d listened to me and stayed in the office instead of going to eat with her co-workers, none of this would’ve happened. I mean, yes, the co-workers are safe, but what if she had dinner with someone else? She shows the sense of a gnat.

I want to storm out of my office and paddle her ass until she promises she won’t do that again. In fact, she shouldn’t take anything from a man—not medicine, not a hand across the street, not money, nothing. She shouldn’t be talking to men at all. No contact with the opposite sex. She should come into my office and lock herself inside, never leaving unless it’s with me and there’s a bag over her head so no one can see how beautiful she is. They’d want to steal her.

I collapse into my office chair. The thoughts I’m having are not normal. I need to get back to my old self, the one who pays no attention to women because they are completely unnecessary to my happiness and life goals. I need a distraction and some protection—from her and myself. I pick up the phone and dial.

“Christina Vazquez’ phone. She’s not here at the moment so—”

“Christina,” I interrupt her fake voice mail message. “It’s me. War.”

“I know. I recognized your number on my caller ID.” She laughs.

“Why’d you act as if it was voicemail then?” I grumble irritably.

“To hear you get all worked up. It’s funny.”

I scowl at the phone. “You’re an actress; not a comedian.”

“I can be both.”

“Well, be both in my office then. I’ll see you in fifteen.”

“I can’t. I’m on a date with my co-star. The studio wants us to be papped for publicity.”

“I’ll send them a photo of the two of you in bed.”

“Not that kind of publicity. Besides, I’m not sleeping with this guy. He’s got bad breath, and I actually deserve an Oscar for the way I pretend to be in love with him.”

“All the more reason to ditch his ass and come help me. I’m drowning.”

I hang up because I don’t want to hear her excuses and make a beeline for the bathroom. Leila—I looked her up after she left my office—doesn’t even acknowledge my presence as I walk by. I slam the exterior office door hard and watch with grim satisfaction as she jumps and looks my way. I remain in the men’s room until I get an impatient text from Christina:

I’m here. Your office is empty, and the new girl is looking like she’s going to stab me with a stapler.

I hurry out because Christina has long nails and might hurt my temp.

“Hey, good looking,” she says mockingly when I stride through the door. Leila is again ignoring me, dammit.

“Come on.” I grab Christina’s arm and drag her into my office. I shut the door, shutter the blinds, and then turn to my friend with my hands on my hips.

“What do you think?”

“She’s very nice looking?”

“Very nice? She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Yes.”

“Say it,” I demand.

“Say what?”

“That she’s gorgeous. A dream. A goddess recreated on this hell hole we call earth.”

“Darling, what has gotten into you?”

Nothing. That’s my problem. “Say. It.”

“She’s gorgeous. A dream. Spring incarnate weeps at the sight of her which is why it is always rainy in April.”

“Okay. Nicely done.” I’m appeased.

“Thank you.” Christina takes a deep curtsy. “On a more serious note, why are we spying on your new temp employee? Why not go over and tell her to go on a date with you? And I did use the word ‘tell’ purposefully since you never ask and always demand.”

“I can’t. I’m building an empire here. I don’t have time for women.” I peek through the blinds again because it’s been at least fifty seconds since I’ve last laid eyes on her.

“You can carve out enough time to take a woman to dinner. Even you, War, have to eat.”