down, tosses the golf club, and takes off running—grabbing her purse as she passes it.
“Would you like for us to call the police, sir?”
“No,” I answer. “I’m going to handle this privately. But will you send me this footage?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
As I’m leaving, I pull out my phone and call a tow truck to take the car away. I call the garage ahead of time to let them know my car is coming in, and I don’t hang up until they promise to make her beautiful again. Then I go back to my office to think about what it is I want to do.
Daniel wasn’t wrong. I’ve had a thing for Poppy since the day she walked into my office in that short skirt with red fuck-me pumps, which were completely inappropriate for a professional setting. Those shoes, though, were sexy as fuck, and they gave her long, tan legs a nice shape—a shape I thought I’d for sure see wrapped around my hips. But that hasn’t happened, and that’s because from the moment I hired her, she’s hated me.
I have high expectations for all of my employees. If I hire you for a job, I want the job completed on time and my way. Poppy and I have butted heads too many times. She’s constantly tardy, she’s never prepared, and she’s always a mess. She can’t keep things tidy while working. She has a one-task-at-a-time mindset, and I can’t stand those kinds of people. Hasn’t anyone heard of multitasking? I do it every damn day. It’s not that hard. Why didn’t I fire her immediately? I don’t have a fucking clue. I guess I thought I could train her, and selfishly, I was probably thinking with my dick.
I could easily press charges against her now, but where would that get me? She doesn’t have the kind of money it’ll take to fix my car. She could be thrown in jail, but that doesn’t get me anything either. I still have to deal with the damage she’s caused. There’s only one way out of this that will get me exactly what I want.
After my last client leaves at the end of the day, I grab my things and head out to the parking lot where the dealership delivered my rental. I get behind the wheel and drive over to her place. It’s an apartment building in Lincoln Park. The area is trendy, but the building seems pre-war and a little run-down. I see her name next to a buzzer but notice the door isn’t even latched, so anyone off the street could just walk into the building. This is completely unacceptable for anyone—let alone her.
I take the stairs up to the third floor and knock on her door. The door opens but the chain is still in place. At least she’s smart when it comes to safety, but that little chain isn’t going to stop someone who really wants to get in. I see shock register on her face before disdain quickly replaces it.
“What are you doing here?” she asks through the cracked door.
“I came to talk to you,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light.
“Talk to me? I think we’ve done enough of that. You can go to hell.” She tries closing the door, but I put my foot in the way, preventing it from shutting.
“I think you’re going to want to hear me out.”
She flashes me an annoyed smile. “And why would I do something stupid like that?”
“Simple.” I pull out my phone and flip the screen around to show her the footage of her smashing the shit out of my car.
Her eyes move from my face down to the phone.
“If you don’t, I’ll press charges.”
She takes a deep breath and clenches her teeth. I can tell by the way her jaw is flexing that she’s realizing she’s screwed.
“Fine.”
I remove my foot and she shuts the door. I hear the chain sliding across it and then the door is back open.
I step inside and follow her down a short hallway and into the living room, where she sits on the couch. I look around the room. “This place isn’t very safe,” I tell her.
Her mouth drops open. “Thanks, Mr. Lewis, I appreciate your concern for my safety, but I’m fine.”
“Hey, I’m not here for the pleasantries.” I take a seat in the chair that’s facing her.