Dirty Work - Regina Kyle Page 0,54
to do. Well, that stops. Now.
“I’ll fix this somehow. I swear. I’m taking the first flight I can get to Miami. I’ll talk to the landlord. See if there’s any way he can back out of the deal and give us the space. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll stay down there until I find another location. A better one.”
“Look, Jake, you don’t have to—”
“Yeah.” I cut him off. “I do. I’ll text you with my flight information.”
I hang up before he can try to convince me to stay. Or whatever he was going to try to convince me to do. I shoot off a quick text to my secretary, asking her to book my flight and hotel, and I’m about to go hop in the shower when I see Ainsley hovering at the other end of the island. Roscoe abandons me and trots over to her, flopping at her feet.
“You’re leaving.”
She doesn’t yell. Or call me any of the names I definitely deserve. Her voice is soft and steady, but it guts me nonetheless.
“You heard.”
She steps over Roscoe, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Her hair is still all sexily mussed from sleep, but at least she’s put some clothes on. I don’t know if I could have stopped myself from fucking her against the counter if she marched out here naked. One last hurrah before I have to head to Miami for who knows how long.
“What did you mean when you said you were temporarily insane?” she asks.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck. She heard that, too?
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know you think the past forty-eight hours were a huge mistake.”
“A mistake that cost me the Miami deal.”
She flinches like I’ve slapped her. “So I was right. You do think it was a mistake.”
Shit. I’m screwing things up. Again.
I take two deep breaths to try to collect my thoughts, but it doesn’t help. This morning has gone completely off the rails. I’m supposed to be feeding her goddamn breakfast, not fighting with her.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.”
“Did you not hear me?” I slam my hand down on the marble so hard my fingers ache. So much for collecting myself. The noise makes Roscoe raise his head and whine, but I ignore him. I’ve got enough problems. I don’t have time for his shit right now. “The Miami deal is dead.”
“I get that you’re disappointed—”
“Disappointed doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“There will be another opportunity, Jake.” She moves in closer, reaching out a tentative hand to touch my shoulder. “There’s always another opportunity. What there won’t be is another me.”
I hear her, but I don’t. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop the anger, the frustration boiling up inside me. It drowns out everything else. Hope. Reason.
Even her.
I shake her hand off. “I had people counting on me, Ainsley. And I instead of doing what I was supposed to be doing—my goddamn job—I was off playing carnival games and screwing the dog walker.”
She flinches again, my words striking another, deeper blow. I’ve gone too far, and I know it. But some stupid, inexplicable force is preventing me from backing down.
She draws herself up to her full five feet something, fortifying herself, like she’s preparing for battle.
“Executive concierge,” she corrects me, her words clipped and brittle.
My phone dings. It’s a text from my secretary. She has me booked on a flight leaving JFK in a few hours.
I stand abruptly and let out a long breath. “I can’t do this now. I have to catch a plane to Miami. We can settle this later.”
Maybe by then I’ll be able to get my head out of my ass and my foot out of my mouth. But Ainsley’s got other ideas.
“I think we settled it already.” She grabs her drawstring bag from the floor by the door, where she dropped it last night in our haste to get to the bedroom.
Christ, that seems like a lifetime ago now.
“I’ll be back to get the rest of my stuff later,” she says, not bothering to hide the little catch in her voice. “When you’re not here. And don’t worry. Odds & Errands will take care of Roscoe while you’re gone. For an additional fee, of course.”
She’s out the door before I can respond, and I’m left standing in my boxers, watching my parents’ annoying, freakishly large dog lick his balls and trying to figure out how my entire life went to shit before breakfast.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ainsley
“EARTH TO