The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

Screw him.

I hit send to email it over, and I turn off my computer and pack up my desk.

My phone rings, and the letter J lights up the screen. I saved his initial so I’d know if he calls me. I pick up my phone and hit decline, and then I smile sweetly at the camera, knowing full well he’s watching me.

I did not just break up with one selfish asshole to go out with another.

He can kiss my ass. A text comes through.

Answer your fucking phone.

I glare at the text and write back.

I have nothing to say to you.

I’ve finished work for the day.

You have your story.

Good luck with it.

A reply bounces back.

This is a personal call.

I roll my eyes in disgust and reply.

Find someone else in a gray skirt to suck your dick on demand. I’m not interested in the position.

I put my phone on silent and then into my bag and continue to pack up my desk.

I take the elevator down to the foyer, and as I walk through, a security guard is on the phone. “Excuse me, miss,” he calls.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been instructed to tell you to wait here.”

Shit. He’s on his way down. “Um, no, I can’t. I’m sorry. Apologize for me,” I stammer as I brush past him and out through the front doors. I run around the corner, and then when I’m out of sight of the security guard, I run across the street and duck into the café I was in yesterday afternoon so I can see.

What does he want?

I take a seat in the café by the window, and then I see Jameson come out the front doors in a rush and then look up and down the street. He takes out his phone and calls someone. My phone starts to vibrate in my bag.

Shit. I’m going to totally screw up this opportunity and get myself fired.

Is that why that other girl got fired today? Was she sleeping with him, and things turned bad? I watch him look up and down the street and dial the number again. I let it ring.

He’s openly furious. The front doors of the building open, and Tristan comes out. Jameson says something to him, and Tristan laughs.

What did he say?

I watch with my heart beating hard as they both look up and down the street, and then the limousine pulls in. He calls me again, and I close my eyes. Stop calling me.

They finally get into the limo, and I watch as it pulls away. I drag my hand down my face in despair.

His temper and my temper are a bad combination.

We are officially a bad idea.