the day is leaving, but as I’m sure you just heard, I’ve been fired.”
He waves his hand through the air. “I’m sure you’ll be back.” He stands up to walk to his office.
“Don’t hold your breath,” I say just as the door clicks shut.
I spin on my heel and head for the exit, more than ready to put this place behind me. As I’m about to push through the door, Matthew’s golf clubs catch my attention. That asshole deserves everything that’s coming to him. Maybe I should help karma out a little. I grab a club and take it out with me. In the garage where he parks—because his priceless sports car is worth far too much money to leave in the parking lot with us common folk—I lift the golf club and swing, smashing out a headlight. It feels so good to let the aggression out. My body floods with endorphins and powers me to do more. I move to the other side and swing again, busting out the other headlight. I move around the car, swinging at the taillights. I’m tired and my breathing is heavy.
I’m about to drop the club and walk away when I think of one last thing. I climb up on the hood and swing again and again, busting the windshield. I’m sure I look like a crazed lunatic, but I don’t care—destroying something he loves is pure elation.
“Hey! Stop!” someone yells. I toss the club, grab my purse off the ground, and take off running.
Two
Matthew
Daniel walks into my office with a smirk on his face.
“Don’t start with me, man.” I lift my hand and massage my temples.
He laughs as he sits down in the chair across from my desk. “You need to give it up. We both know why you’re so hard on her.”
“Because she’s incompetent,” I say matter-of-factly.
He shakes his head. “It’s because you have a thing for her. It’s okay. Just admit it.”
I feel my eyes stretch wide. “Have a thing for her? Her?” I point toward the door.
He nods, smile still in place.
“Not in million years, my friend. Have you seen the women I’ve had on my arm? I could have 12 just like her—better than her, even.” I know I sound like a complete dick, but goddamn if she doesn’t bring it out of me.
“No,” he says, still shaking his head. “She’s the only one you can’t have—the only one who stands up to you and tells you exactly what she thinks whether you like it or not, and that drives you crazy.”
I open my mouth to argue, but my phone rings and I stop to answer it. “Hello?”
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Lewis, but this is Jeff from security in the parking garage. You’re not going to be happy, but there was just a woman in here beating the ever-loving shit out of your car with a golf club. We have it on video if you’d like to press charges. Should I call the police?”
“Not yet. I’ll be right over.” I hang up the phone and shoot Daniel a look.
“What was that about?” he asks, standing up and watching me round my desk.
“She beat the shit out of my car with my own fucking golf club,” I say, heading for the door. All I hear behind me is Daniel’s loud laughter.
I get to the parking garage and go straight to my car. I nearly fall to my knees when I see the busted windshield, headlights, and taillights. “Oh, what did she do to you?” I ask my car, reaching out to rub my hand across her hood. This Audi R8 isn’t just a luxury supercar . . . this is my baby.
“We’re really sorry, Mr. Lewis. We tried getting here in time, but the damage was already done and she took off running. Would you like to watch the footage?”
I’m speechless but I nod.
“Right this way.”
He leads me to the security room and pulls up the footage. I watch the black-and-white screen as she comes into view, holding my golf club. She drops her purse on the ground and takes the club in both hands. It sails through the air, smashing against the first headlight, causing me to flinch. She works her way around the car and looks to be done, but then at the last minute, she climbs up onto the hood and swings again and again until the windshield is completely shattered. Her head whips around quickly, apparently getting caught in the act, then she jumps