Thorne Princess(21)

“Technically, you were completely ignored before you interrupted me, so you’re not in a position to complain.” Ransom slapped his laptop shut, stood up, and turned to me. His look sent a chill down my spine. “Playdate’s over. Wrap it up.”

Anger simmered in my blood. He couldn’t tell me what to do with my time. He was my bodyguard, not my nanny. Plus, as I’d said—I was working.

“Sorry, you want me to leave because…?” I crossed my arms, sprawling on in my seat.

“You’ve been here for longer than an hour, which means you’ve completed your professional obligation, and that people probably know your whereabouts by now.”

His explanation made sense. Unfortunately for both of us, sense was currently overruled by my need to rebel against this guy. What can I say? Women didn’t burn their bras in the sixties just so I could take orders from some jerk with an inflated sense of importance.

“Nah. I think I’m going to stick around.”

“As history taught us, your thinking has never led to anything good.” He tsked. He produced his phone from his pocket and began texting someone. My spine stiffened. He’d managed to screw up my life plenty in less than twenty-four hours, and it didn’t look like he was running out of ideas.

Despite my best efforts to look unaffected in front of my so-called friends, I caved.

“What are you doing?” I asked him finally.

“Canceling all of your professional obligations for the week. I gave myself access to your Google calendar yesterday when you were busy screaming into your pillow.” He didn’t look up from his screen.

Tara cupped her mouth. NeNe keeled over, pretending to gag.

“You can’t do that.” I shot up to my feet, balling my fists beside my body.

“Already did.” He tucked his phone into his front pocket. “Ladies.” He nodded toward them. “It was a displeasure, if not a complete nightmare.”

Tara and NeNe did not produce a sound. I couldn’t think of a single occasion where they might have encountered someone as rude and as unimpressed with their existence as Ransom.

Rather than stand there and convince me to come with him, he began making his way to my Nissan LEAF. This reminded me that he had my car keys—he had insisted on driving here himself because, quote, “I don’t trust you with a Q-tip, let alone a vehicle.”

He was leaving me there to fend for myself. After canceling my credit cards and putting Dennis on paid leave.

I glanced around me, and saw that Tara and Nectarine were staring at me with a mixture of shock and horror.

“I…I have to go.” I followed Ransom, who was already rounding the street corner and walking into the parking lot. I put my hand on his arm to try to slow him down, but he was fast.

“What’s your problem?” I roared.

His face was stone-cold, his jaw tense as he answered. “Some abandonment issues with a dash of anger management, and inherent impatience. All self-diagnosed. Your turn.”

“My problem is you!” I panted, trying to keep up with his steps.

“Shame.” Mild amusement colored his tone. “Your opinion means so much to me.”

“Did you really cancel all my obligations for this week?” I demanded.

“Yes.” He unlocked my black Nissan LEAF, sliding into the driver’s seat. “You overstayed at the café, breaking your contractual obligation, not even two hours after signing it. If you can’t play by the rules—you won’t be playing at all.”

He revved up the engine before I got inside. I had to jump in quickly from fear he’d leave me there.

Shit. If only I’d read the stupid contract, I’d know what on earth he was talking about. What else I’d signed up for.

“You’re a sadist,” I remarked.

He backed out of the parking space and bolted out of the lot like a professional racecar driver. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“It was, coming from someone with the rhetorical prowess of a nursery schooler. Nice job you got there. Cool friends, too.”

NeNe and Tara weren’t really my friends, but I didn’t want to wash my hands of them just because this man was the most condescending creature on planet Earth.

“My friends aren’t idiots. They’re just…” I tried to think of a flattering way to describe Tara and Nectarine.

“Morons?” Ransom suggested unhelpfully.

“Sheltered.”

“From what? Libraries?” he spat out. “Your friends are a reflection of who you are. And right now it’s looking pretty damn shallow, Brat. You’re aiming too low.”

“We conduct business together. That doesn’t make us soulmates,” I said shortly.

“Those girls couldn’t even spell the word business if they put both their heads together.” He weaved through the condensed Los Angeles traffic. It was so hot the palm trees looked like they were trying to hunch down to avoid the sun.

“I’ve never met someone more judgmental than you!” I flung my arms in the air.

“Try leaving L.A. The world is full of people who actually appreciate substance.”

No point in going back and forth with this guy. We spent the rest of the drive in tense silence. I didn’t dare imagine what Tara and NeNe must have been saying behind my back right now. The scene with Ransom was beyond humiliating. I couldn’t afford to be seen bickering with him in public. He was going to ruin what little respect I’d gained for myself in Tinseltown.