The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(66)

Get up here now!

Now . . . exclamation mark . . . What?

How dare he?

My eyes nearly pop from their sockets.

I hit the keyboard so hard I almost break the damn thing.

Elliot Miles.

Go fuck yourself!

No, I sound like a child. I delete my message and I try again.

Elliot.

Are you so incredibly stupid that you can’t see out of your . . .

No, I delete.

Don’t give him the satisfaction of stooping to his level. I close my eyes and inhale deeply as I try to calm myself down. Don’t let him get to you . . .

Just ignore the stupid email.

I get back to work and half an hour later my email pings again.

Kate.

Are you on your way?

I’m waiting.

My pressure cooker boils to the breaking point. I write back.

I’m not coming.

As I told you, I’m busy. Please forward your request via email.

Stop wasting my time with unreasonable demands.

I hit send.

I don’t know who this guy thinks he is?

How dumb can a human being be?

I get up and walk to my filing cabinet and I slam it open, put the file in, and slam it shut.

“Stupid asshole twat-head,” I mutter under my breath. I sit back down and hit my computer keys. “Stop turning off, fucker.”

I exhale heavily, calm . . . calm . . . calm. Keep fucking calm.

My stomach is churning and, honestly, I haven’t felt this out of control and unstable for a long time. I can’t do this to myself, I already know that this isn’t a healthy relationship for me. I can’t let myself be pulled back down into darkness by a toxic man.

My office door opens and clicks closed and I glance up: Elliot stands before me. Perfectly fitted grey suit, square jaw, and dark hair. His presence instantly takes over the small space. Damn him for being so attractive. It really is infuriating. I drag my eyes back to my computer screen.

“What are you doing?” he snaps.

Don’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.

“Working,” I reply calmly as I keep my eyes to the front.

“I asked to see you.” From my peripheral vision I see his hands go into his trouser pockets as he waits for my reply.

“And I said, email me your request. Now if you don’t mind, I’m very busy, Elliot. Please close the door on your way out.”

“I gave her a lift, nothing more.”

My eyes rise to his.

“She had a fight with her date and was waiting for a cab, I simply offered her a lift.”

I stare at him . . . is that true?

I turn back to my computer. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

He stays silent for a while as if assessing the situation. “What’s with the attitude?”

Fury bubbles dangerously close to the surface and I turn back to him. “It’s called work ethic, Elliot, and there is no attitude.”

“Good.” He tilts his chin to the sky in approval. “I’ll have Andrew pick you up tonight, around seven.”

A frown crosses my brow. Give me strength. I turn back to my computer and print out a spreadsheet. “I can’t tonight, sorry. I have something on.”

“Like what?”

Ignoring him, I stand and open the top drawer of my filing cabinet, and he swiftly puts his hand over mine and closes it, causing it to slam. “Like what?” he growls.

“Washing my hair,” I snap as I lose the last of my patience.

“So, you are angry?”

I sit down in a rush and twist back to my computer screen.

“What was I supposed to do, leave her on the street?” he replies.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“This is why relationships and me don’t work. There is always fucking drama. It was a lift.”

“We are not in a relationship. You have already made that crystal clear and I really don’t care if you want to take Varuscka Vermont on your stupid Miles jet. This has nothing to do with giving someone a lift home. Get out.”

“So?” Amusement flashes across his face. “You did see the story.”

“Elliot, I’m not interested in this game. I’m tired of it already.”

He puts his hands on his hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means . . .” My voice trails off.

“We had a deal.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you mean the deal about you not being seen or photographed with me but it’s perfectly fine for you to be seen leaving with another woman, or do you mean your deal of nobody knowing about us and you speaking to me like a piece of crap whenever you feel like it? Newsflash, it isn’t that appealing, Elliot, excuse me if I want to pass.”

“I had a stressful day on Monday,” he barks.

“I’m having one now,” I growl back.

His eyes hold mine. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you may as well go out with Varuscka. This arrangement isn’t going to work between us.”

“What?” he explodes.

My door opens without warning. “Do you want a coffee?” Kellie asks.

“Knock before you enter an office,” Elliot snaps.