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"Is that all you have to say?" He sounds surprised.
"I don't really know what else you expect me to say," I mutter, my anger starting to build. "I don't care if you're available or not. I don't want you. If you were the last man on Earth, I still wouldn't want you. You're not my cup of tea. You're more like kombucha…all sour and weird."
"I'm what?" He coughs and I smile to myself.
"Kombucha, that fermented drink. Kingston, I hate to break it to you, but you're just not my type." That's a bit of a lie, but like I said before, little white lies don't count. "So trust me when I say, if I was seeking a bachelor and chose door number two and saw you standing there, I'd run away so quickly." I snort as I take a runners stance. "Shoot, I'd be running so fast that I might even win a medal at the Olympics.” I bounce back and forth on my heels as if I’m ready for the starter’s gun. I really do know how to amuse myself.
"Really, Skye?" He doesn't sound so full of himself now. Take that, Mr. Hotshot Attorney. Not feeling so cocky now, are you? I don’t know why that makes me feel so satisfied.
"Really, Kingston Not-My-Type Chase. And if you don't mind, I really have to go now."
"Where are you going?" he asks, and his tone doesn't sound so smug now.
"Like I told you before, it's none of your business. You're my boss, and as far as I'm concerned, our interactions end at five o’clock PM on Friday. They won't start again until Monday at nine AM. So, ciao bella." I hang up on him quickly before he can respond, and then because I don't want to be interrupted by any more phone calls, I power my phone off.
"Is he out of his ever-loving mind?" I mumble, as I run down the street. I'm so late that the White Rabbit would be giving me side eye. "Why on Earth would that ass think I want him?" The question makes my head thud. Had I given him some sort of signal that would make him believe I was interested? I think back to our interactions over the last couple of weeks. Nothing I've said or done should have led him to believe that I give two shits about him.
Sue me, yes I think he's hot, but most women in the world would think he's hot. I think George Clooney's hot. I think Brad Pitt's hot. I think Bradley Cooper's hot. I think Boris Kodjoe's hot. Shit, I could probably name ten million men that I think are hot. It doesn't mean I want them.
Had he seen me checking out his arms that one day he came to the office in his gym clothes? Surely not.
I swallow hard as bile rises up my throat in embarrassment. Had he seen me checking out his shorts?
I reach the corner right before the entrance to the restaurant and I know I should go directly inside. Fabricio is going to be pissed at me. I'd have to grovel to keep my job. But instead of hurrying into the restaurant, I power the phone back on.
Because fury has hit me.
Embarrassment has made me angry.
Once the phone powers on, I call Kingston and wait impatiently for him to answer the phone.
"This is Kingston Chase. How may I help you?" he says in clipped tones as he answers the phone.
"It's Skye," I snap. "Which you knew."
"Hello, Skye. How may I help you?" he says politely, as if we hadn't just had an infuriating conversation five minutes ago.
"I just processed what you said to me," I huff out. "And I'm pissed."
"It took you that long to process what I said?" he says slowly. "No wonder you're not getting through those files very quickly." He chuckles like he thinks he's some hotshot lawyer and that makes me even angrier.
"You're just a jackass, a pompous prick, a wannabe, and I think that?—"
"May I ask a clarifying question?" he asks matter-of-factly, cutting me off, and I blink. Is he about to fire me for being insubordinate?
"What do you want to know?"
"Well, you just said that I am a wannabe, correct? But I'd like to inquire and find out what sort of wannabe I am."
I just stand there, gripping the phone. "What?"
"You said I'm a wannabe and I want to know, I'm a wannabe what? A wannabe plumber? A wannabe electrician? A wannabe judge? A wannabe ballet dancer?"
"Oh, you infuriate me. You are driving me crazy, Kingston Chase."
"Doesn't sound so bad to me."
"You are so annoying. I was just calling you to tell you that?—"
