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“Why not?” He motioned for a waiter.
“I’m not interested.”
“Yes you are.”
“I don’t have sex with my boss or even co-workers.”
The waiter appeared in front of us and offered me a glass of pink champagne.
“Thank you.” I took the glass with shaking fingers, waited for the guy to leave, and cleared my throat. “If you expect me to have sex with you, then I quit right now.”
“You can’t quit. You need this job as much as I need you to fill it.” He finished his glass. “More to the point, sex with you is not a necessity. It’s a personal desire.”
I turned away, scared to glance at him. It reminded me of those paranormal romances where if the heroine stared too long in the vampire’s eyes she would be captured against her will.
“I won’t require you to have sex with me,” he said.
I cringed at his crude response and swallowed my drink to have something to do besides grimace. The champagne slid down my throat and warmed my stomach. The thunderous booming from the music substituted further conversation.
I’ll have to deal with this mess for a month while I apply to other jobs. Six figures. Of course it’s too good to be true. He wants an executive assistant in the office and his bed.
Everything had a cost in the end. He’d seen my background, knew I was a nobody, and figured he could treat me any way he wanted.
Were my other classmates going through this?
I doubted it. They came from rich families and had their careers planned out well before they started high school. Most of their families owned successful businesses. The ones that didn’t possessed major contacts in politics or big industries.
Would Chase have tried this mess with a girl from a powerful family? No way.
I gripped my glass hard and hoped it wouldn’t shatter into pieces.
How dare he get my hopes up high and then shove them back down.
I’d dealt with his kind before. Ever since I was a kid, a weird man crept around, spied my defenseless situation, and tried to take advantage of me. But I always escaped them.
Survival of the fittest.
I had to be clear, maintain distance, and whatever happens, don’t tell Troy. My fingers shook. My eyes watered. Soon I would have to be excused so I could go in a stall to mope and cry like a spineless creature.
“Jasmine?” the bastard said. And I immediately hated my name on his tongue.
What is he going to do now? Pull it out and ask me to touch it?
“I apologize for being so crass,” he finally said once the next song played.
“That’s okay,” I muttered. At least my resume was current. A few companies hadn’t called back. I could maybe contact them on Monday and see if they were still interested.
“Jasmine? Please look at me,” Chase said.
Sighing, I turned his way.
“I’m a man who’s used to immediately receiving things I desire from women as soon as I ask for it. You look upset and I didn’t want that to happen. Too many people say yes to me, so I’m a bit lazy when it comes to asking for something. I’m truly sorry. Do you forgive me?”
“Sure.” I turned back to the balcony.
“You’re lying.” He touched my arm. I moved it away.
“Jasmine, I usually don’t humble myself to say sorry to someone. Trust me when I say this. I won’t disrespect you again.”
