Coldhearted Boss(27)

In the morning, she’s gone before I wake. It appears neither one of us is eager for a close-quarters cabin encounter. I’m glad.

Wednesday and Thursday follow the same pattern. I send her out to do things that will put as much distance between us as possible, but my inspiration is dwindling quickly. I don’t own that many pairs of boots, don’t generate that much trash, not to mention I have actual work to do. I don’t have all day to come up with arbitrary tasks for her. On Thursday afternoon, I have a conference call with my partners, and I tell her to sit outside until I’m done. So, she does. She sits right up on the top stair with her chin in her hands, observing the progress of the demolition taking place in front of her.

It’s unnerving.

It wrecks my entire vindictive plan. The small part of me that wanted to enact revenge is quickly losing steam. The fire that burned when I saw her standing in line, hoping to be hired as part of my crew is quickly turning to ash. Apparently, I’m not half the asshole I thought I was.

It annoys me.

She might be playing the kitten now, but a month ago, she wasn’t quite so innocent. In that bar, she had a plan. She seduced me on purpose. She took my wallet and stole my cash. That wasn’t an accident.

It’d be so much easier if she just showed her true nature so we could be done with this. I want something in my office to go missing. I want one of the guys to report a stolen item from the bunkhouses. She’s had plenty of unsupervised time throughout the last few days, ample opportunity to play the thief if she wanted to.

And yet by lunchtime on Friday, she’s still the docile kitten, so I have no choice. I won’t continue this charade into next week. I won’t keep tiptoeing around the cabin and sending her off on fool’s errands just so I can bait her into committing a crime.

Paychecks go out at the end of today.

After I sign hers, I include a small note: Now we’re even.





I’m not surprised to hear footsteps banging up the steps of the trailer that afternoon. A moment later, the door slams open. Ah yes, the kitten is gone. She’s seething now, an angry little spitfire as she throws the note in my direction. It flutters to the ground pitifully slowly, like a feather, which only angers her more. With a growl, she reaches for it, storms over to my desk, and slaps it down on top of a new rendering Steven just completed. The paper wrinkles under her hand.

“You knew who I was this whole time?!” she asks, smoke billowing off her.

I lean back in my chair, surprisingly calm now that she’s not. This is the fight I’ve been waiting for, the truth-telling I’ve been eager to hear.

“You mean, do I remember you seducing me in that bar and stealing from me?” I ask, tone deceptively bored. “Yes.”

Her eyes widen and she rears back. It takes me a moment to realize she looks shocked.

Shocked?!

Why the hell should she look shocked now? Maybe before, yes, when she first opened her paycheck and found it was $800 less than it should have been. I’m sure she was surprised to find she’s only taking home a paltry $45.32, but she should be glad I left her with that much. I was tempted to send her home with nothing, just like she did me.

“What do you mean ‘stole from you’?” she asks carefully.

Oh good grief. I thought we were done with this game. We’ve been playing it all week and its long lost its appeal. “Do you have amnesia? Or are you just playing dumb?”

She practically snarls, those high cheekbones bright red with anger now. She looks ready to strangle me. I wonder how she managed to pull off the innocent act all week.

“Fine. Since you’ve apparently pulled the same stunt so many times you can’t even pick them apart anymore, I’ll recount that evening for the both of us. Last month, I stayed in Oak Dale for one night with my partners. We decided to get a drink at the bar beside our motel. You happened to be there too.”

She blinks and her anger gives way to another, indiscernible emotion while she listens to me speak.

“When my partners left, I stayed, curious about the sad girl alone at the bar. You turned back to glance at me over your shoulder and the invitation was clear. You wanted me to follow you into that bathroom.” The red from her cheeks spreads all the way down her neck. “And of course, I did. You had me eating out of the palm of your hand, didn’t you?”

The memories from that night are too hard to beat back—hot mouths, impatient hands, explosive chemistry. She must be remembering now too because she shakes her head and steps back.

“It’s not a crime to kiss a man in a bathroom.”

“But it is a crime to steal money from him.”

Her jaw drops. “I didn’t take any money!”

Her words are so clear and convincing, I almost believe her. “You’ve clearly had practice. That almost sounded believable.”

“It should sound believable! It’s the truth!” she cries, throwing her hands up in defeat. She’s pacing now, walking back and forth in front of my desk, fisting her hands.

“When I went into the bathroom with you, I had my wallet,” I point out dryly.

“Yes!” she says with a huff. “Okay, I did take your wallet, but—”

“After you seduced me.”

“I did not seduce you!”

“What was it you were doing then?” I ask, standing and rounding my desk. I hate that she isn’t looking at me right now. I can’t stand her pacing. I want her to meet my eyes as she lies to me. I want to see her for what she truly is, once and for all. “That was an act, right? A way to distract me from your real goal?”