Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

S hardonnay’s honey scent fills the interior of my car. She’s been silent since she slid inside with a huff five minutes ago.

“Want to talk about it?” I ask, unable to take the silence any longer.

“Nope,” she says, popping the P on the end of the word.

“Okay, well, I do. So you can just listen I guess.” I look over at her and I’m met with a scowl. “First, I should apologise for what happened at the club Friday night, and I would… if I were actually sorry.”

“Wait, is that your version of an apology? Because that’s not how they work,” she interrupts me.

“It’s not an apology. Like I said, I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry I danced with you and I sure as shit won’t apologise for giving you a mind-blowing orgasm.”

“It was hardly mind-blowing,” she mumbles.

“Well, maybe I should have another go at it then? See if we can get you there,” I’m quick to suggest.

“Rule number one: No fornicating with employees or associates of the firm.” She recites my own rules back to me.

“Rule number ten: Under no circumstances, make lunch meetings with clients. You broke that one on your first day.”

“That’s because it’s a stupid rule, Xavier. You need to eat lunch just as much as the next person.”

“You know, if you hated me as much as you pretend to, you wouldn’t care whether I starved or not,” I tell her.

“I only make sure you’re fed because you pay my salary. If you starve yourself to death, I’m out of a job again ,” she attempts to reason with me.

“Well, fuck, that actually makes sense.”

“Can we just pretend it never happened? It shouldn’t have happened. We both know it. And it most certainly can’t happen again,” she pleads.

“You can try to pretend if you want.”

“You are infuriatingly impossible, you know that? I can see why you do so well in court. I bet the judge gets tired of hearing you talk nonsense and just lets you win to get you out of the courtroom.”

I laugh. “That’s not really how any of that works, babe.”

“ Shar. For the millionth time, my name is Shar,” she grits out between her teeth.

“I know what your name is.”

“Then use it.”

“I like babe better.”

“Rule number sixteen: No pet names or nicknames. You are to address me as Mr Christianson only,” she says in a voice that I’m once again assuming is meant to be mocking my own.

“If you know the rules so damn well, why don’t you try following them.”

“Ah, because they’re stupid. Really, what secretary gave you pet names? Or danced in the office?”

“A lot of them tried the pet names. That’s why that one got added. And as for the dancing, one attempted to offer me a strip tease once.”

“Seriously?” Her face scrunches up in disgust. “I mean, I can see how if you’re walking around giving your secretaries orgasms and calling them babe, they’d think they could strip in front of you.”

“I’ve never given any of my employees an orgasm—well, apart from you.” I smirk. “And never once called any of them by anything other than their names.”

“Well, gee, don’t I feel damn special,” she sasses.

“You should.”

“Oh my god, can you drive any quicker? I need to get out of this car.”

“How’re you feeling? Do you want me to stop at a chemist? Get you something for that headache?”

“What headache?” she asks.

“You said you had to leave because you felt a headache coming on.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I’m good. I just need to sleep.”

We drive in silence the rest of the way. When I pull up out front of her apartment building, I take in the sketchy neighbourhood. This is where she lives?

“What the hell?” Shardonnay rushes from the car.

“Fuck.” I don’t know what has her running up the sidewalk, but I don’t think twice before chasing after her. “What the fuck, Shardonnay?” I question when I catch up to her.

She’s stopped at the front of a building that’s been blocked off by yellow and orange tape with the words DO NOT ENTER printed across it. Shardonnay goes to duck under the tape, and my arms wrap around her waist and pull her back.

“What are you doing?”

She struggles to get out of my hold—yeah, that’s not happening until I know she’s not about to do something stupid. Like enter a building that clearly states do not enter .

“I live here, Xavier,” she says.

“I know you can read, babe. You can’t go in there,” I say, pointing at the tape. She huffs, but her body slackens. Loosening my hold, but not letting go, I gesture to the printed notice on the door. “Did you know they were exterminating in your building today?”

“What? How would I know that?”

“You should have received a notice, Shardonnay. Did you get an email, a letter from your landlord?” I release her, now that I’m fifty percent sure she’s not going to just run into a building full of chemicals.

“No, I did… shit,” she curses.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’ll just go and stay with Lucy.” She pulls her phone out of her bag.

“Lucy’s staying at Mum and Dad’s tonight. Come on.” Taking her hand in mine, I lead her back to the car before opening the passenger door.

“Wait… I’ll figure something out. It’s fine. You can go home, Xavier.”

I laugh. “That’s cute. Now get in the fucking car, Shardonnay,” I say.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not leaving you in the middle of the Bronx with nowhere to fucking sleep. Get in.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Xavier. Like I said, I will figure something out. It’s fine.”

“I’m too tired for this shit. Just get in. I’ll wait as long as it takes, but keep in mind: the more tired I get, the more of an ass I’m likely to be tomorrow when you do have to actually follow my rules. When I’m your boss.”

“So, right now, you’re not my boss?”

“No, we’re not at work,” I tell her.

“Good, because you’re an asshole, Xavier Christianson. And bossy. And those rules of yours are absolutely bloody ridiculous and I’m not following any of them,” she says before getting in the car with a glare that would rival an ice queen’s.

Closing the door, I jog around to the driver’s side. Once I pull out into traffic, I turn and smirk at her. “You’ve been wanting to say that all week, huh?”

“Yep.”

The twenty-minute drive to my house is spent in more silence. Pulling up to the gate, I enter the code and wait for the doors to swing open.

“Where are we?” Shardonnay asks, sitting straighter in her seat.

“My place.”

“Why? I thought you were taking me to Lucy’s?”

“I’m tired. I have plenty of guest rooms. You can take your pick.” I drive up to the garage, and the door opens automatically as I approach. Cutting the engine, I pivot in my seat. “Don’t overthink it, Shardonnay. It’s just a guest room. I’m sure, by tomorrow, you’ll be able to return to your apartment. You should find that notice the landlord would have sent.”

“I can’t. It would have been sent to my mum’s email address.” Her eyes well up.

“The apartment’s in your mum’s name?” I ask her.

“I didn’t think to tell them that she… died. And, as time passed and no one questioned it, I just kept paying rent.” She shrugs.

“You realise what you’re doing is illegal, right?”

“I’m paying the rent. It’s not like I’m putting anyone out.”

“Still illegal. Let’s go, jailbird. We can sort it out tomorrow.” I don’t bother looking behind me to see if she’s following. I don’t need to. I can sense her presence at my back as I make my way down the hall. “Kitchen.” I gesture in that direction. “Help yourself to whatever you need. Come on, I’ll show you to a guest room,” I say before stopping at a door. “You can sleep in here.” I turn the knob, push forward, and step back. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”

Spinning on my heel, I hightail it out of there, slamming the door to my bedroom as I enter. I can’t trust myself to stay in the same vicinity as Shardonnay and a bed. All I can think about is throwing her down on the closest surface and making her mine.