And those very things are what made me want to simultaneously kiss him senseless and bash his brains in.
Cole’s ego, when unchecked, was a dangerous thing. I had seen it firsthand. I was often on the receiving end of his insensitivity. But I never thought he’d allow anything to mess up his band.
Cole clearly needed a hard smack in the face.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll go. I’ll make sure things are square at work. Figure out the hotel details and I’ll give you the money,” I said, knowing my earlier excuses had been feeble at best.
Of course I’d go.
Cutest doormat in Bakersville, remember?
“Okay, I’ll let you know.” Gracie looked at her watch. “Shouldn’t Miss-Productive-Member-Of-Society be getting to work?” she asked.
I checked the time on my cell phone and almost freaked. I had ten minutes to get to work.
“Crap, crap, crap!” I jumped to my feet and grabbed my purse, barely saying goodbye as I ran out the door.
Why is it when you’re running late, that it is the perfect time for everything to go spectacularly and splendidly wrong?
My car wouldn’t start.
I sat in the driver’s seat, turning the key, hoping the clicking noise was only in my imagination and that my engine would magically turn over.
Nope. It was dead as a doornail.
I got out of my car and screamed at the top of my lungs. A woman getting into her perfectly working car gave me a strange look and I gave her the middle finger. Bitch with her shiny Acura that started so damn easily. I bet she was on time for work.
I pulled out my phone and called a cab. They said they’d be there in ten minutes.
It took them fifteen.
I gave the driver my best stink eye as I climbed into the back.
Then we hit roadwork then there was an accident on the highway.
By the time I got to work, I was forty-five minutes late and in a really bad mood.
I ran to the entrance of The Claremont Center just as the heavy wooden door swung open and hit me right in the face.
My purse flew into the air, my cellphone fell to the ground, smashing into a thousand pieces while my nose started hemorrhaging blood all over my adorable pink sweater.
“Fucking hell!” I screeched, covering my nose as blood dripped through my fingers.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” a voice said, shoving tissues into my hand. I didn’t look up as I snatched the tissues and pressed them to my bloody nose.
“What sort of moron swings open a door like that? It’s not that heavy! Are you stupid as well as an asshole?” I seethed. My nose was throbbing. I gingerly touched it, hoping it wasn’t broken.
“You should get that looked at.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I hissed, finally looking up into the face of my one and only client.
Theo Anderson.
Because of course he would be the moron to smash me with a door.
Theo’s gorgeous face was contrite and concerned and I vainly started to freak out about what I must look like. I looked down at my blood-splattered sweater and would have cringed if only it didn’t hurt so badly.
“Uh, sorry about the verbal assault. You’re not a moron,” I apologized.
“I deserved it. It’s fine,” Theo smiled, his pretty eyes crinkling at the edges. He really was nice to look at. I would have enjoyed it more if I weren’t in total agony.
Busted nose aside, I really wish I could dig myself a hole and climb into it.
“I’ll go get Marion. You should come in and sit down. Pinch the bridge of your nose and lean forward. We need to get you to the hospital. It may be broken.” Theo in all of his hot efficiency went to locate my boss and also found ice in the employee break room. He brought both Marion and an ice pack back in less than three minutes.
Marion agreed with Theo in that I should go and have my nose checked out. She offered to drive me but Theo was insistent he take me.
“It’s my fault after all,” he said and I nodded because hell yeah it was his fault.