“Stella. I’ve been trying to call you since nine.”
“What?! No, you haven’t.”
“I have. I can show you my phone just so you believe me.”
That temporarily holds me up. While I dig in my purse, I notice Hal edging away from the desk. He’s probably going to press a hidden panic button and have security break down that thick wooden door and save his ass. It’s times like these that I’m thankful Hal chose an ancient old house with radiator heat and thick wooden doors and actual rooms instead of fancy-schmancy glassed-in offices in a regular building. This huge room only has a tiny window in the whole sprawling space. God, there’s even a couch in here. Why is there a couch in here? The desk is two bloody times the bloody size of the couch. There are also two expensive leather chairs, lamps, coffee tables, and bookcases. It’s like the place is still a real house, not an office type of office at all.
I finally locate my phone from the depths of my purse and try to flick it on, but then I realize it’s dead, annoyingly enough.
No, I don’t know how to get here by heart, but I didn’t need my phone. I used my car’s GPS. I’ve never even been to see Hal’s new building. I didn’t know it was an old Victorian-style house with three stories, and no, I have no idea what all three stories are used for. I also don’t find it pretty or quaint or romantic because Hal’s poisoned me against it by buying and converting it. There’s a big sign on the lawn out front, but that’s the only thing distinguishing it from the other houses in the area. Many have been converted to commercial use since they’re all so close to downtown.
“You’re still a blackguard,” I throw at Hal, who is slowly edging toward the couch. I wonder if he’s thinking about picking up the coffee table or maybe moving the bookcase and using it as a shield against my anger.
Ha. My anger can blast right through that stuff like some crazy laser beams. I imagine myself blasting up the office with beams shot from my eyes, and I nearly laugh. Maybe fire from my mouth would be better. Extreme strength? Oh, I’d love to be able to pick up that desk and snap it in two.
“I’m not a blackguard,” Hal defends himself. “I just couldn’t find a bank that had a hundred grand just sitting around. You need time for that. If you would have just let me transfer, then I could have sent it. As it is, I can’t force banks to come up with money they don’t have sitting around. That’s not how the world works. No one takes out that kind of cash. Not when it’s possible to do transfers safely and easily. Plus, it’s not safe for you, walking around with all of that. Someone would find out and murder you for it or worse.”
“Murder?” His eyes flash at the word when I say it. “Murder?” I repeat. More flashes. “Murder?”
“Yes, murder. Very bad and gruesome murder. I’m sure of it.” Hal’s hands flex at his sides like he’d enjoy wrapping them around my shoulder and shaking sense into me. I bet he would just love that.
I wasn’t going into the bakery to work today. I have no orders to fill, and now I don’t have to worry about it if Hal would just give me my money. I catch his eyes traveling down from my face to my throat, my collarbones, and then landing on my boobs. I’m wearing a camisole since, warmed by my anger, I shed my sweater in the car. For a second, I think Hal appreciates the lace, but then I realize he’s staring at my boobs. Mine.
An explosion of heat bursts inside me, and I nearly sway where I’m standing.
Why is Hal looking at my boobs?
More importantly, why did I kiss him last night? And why did I enjoy it? My hormones are fully scrambled, and it’s twisting and turning my wires around. Head wires, not like ovary wires, va-jay wires, nipple wires, or anything like that. I think. Okay, god, maybe I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep at all last night because between thinking about the bakery being sold, the dinner, and the sort of angry, not angry kiss, who could sleep?
“If you give me your information, I can send you the transfer right now.” Hal uses the same tone of voice he’d use to talk down a lion about to eat him.
I’ll show him a lion. I’ll show him for freaking dinner and for the kiss he kind of forced me into without forcing me at all. I’ll show him for being Hal, for existing, and for rewiring wiring that was perfectly fine before he bought my bakery and started poking his nasty wizard face where it didn’t belong. Also, for poking his tongue into my mouth last night because that was just gross, and I will not think of it any other way.