Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
The doorbell rings again, and the banging gets harder. “Jesus,” I say, swinging open the door and coming face-to-face with my father.
His face is filled with rage, and my heart sinks when I think another tape leaked. “They fucking fired you?”
Chapter 34
Wilson
I stand behind her as the banging starts, and when she swings open the door, Matthew is standing there. His hair looks like he just ran a rake through it, and his face is filled with rage. My body goes cold, and my hands form fists beside me. At the thought of another video being out there in the world, I’m pretty sure I look the same way Matthew looks. “They fucking fired you?” he shouts at Franny, and my chest tightens.
“Would you like to come in?” she asks, and he walks in. He just looks at me, and maybe from the way my face is, he realizes that I didn’t know. “I need a drink,” she says, walking past both of us and going to the kitchen. We watch her walk out before we look back at each other.
Matthew doesn’t move, and neither do I. “She didn’t tell you?” I shake my head.
“I just got here,” I reply and then look up at the ceiling. I want to kick myself for not even asking how her day was. When I got in the car and called her, I was so happy to hear her voice after the day I had that I didn’t even bother to ask. “But no, she didn’t tell me.”
He puts his hands in his pockets now. “Take a couple of seconds to calm down and then.” I look at him and glare. “They tell me counting to ten helps.” With a chuckle, he walks away from me, slapping my arm.
I don’t count to ten. I don’t even count to one before I storm back into the kitchen and see her standing at the island with a glass of whiskey in front of her mouth. I don’t even try to hide the anger in my voice when I finally say, “You got fired because of me.” Her eyes come to mine, and if she doesn’t take my breath away with her beauty, she takes it away with the sass that I know will come.
She puts the glass down in front of her, looking at me square in the eyes. “No.” She shakes her head. “I quit because of me.” She points at herself and then smirks, and I really wish I could kiss her right now. I also really wish we hadn’t been interrupted before I told her that I loved her. My eyes go to the flowers she bought me. She got fired yet still stopped to buy me flowers to let me know she supports me. She isn’t just perfect. She is one of a kind.
“That is so much bullshit,” Matthew says, and I turn to look at him. “We are going to call my lawyer and see if we have a case.” She glares at him, and my eyes go big.
“You didn’t even want me to take the job.” Her voice goes higher, and I know she’s not only pissed; she’s fucking angry. “You literally stopped speaking to me because I took the job.”
“I swear to God when I get a hold of Tiffany,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m going to fucking …” I continue between clenched teeth. “Fucking sue the pants off her,” I say instead of what I really want to say.
“Getting her pants off is what started this whole thing to begin with.” She winks at me, and I walk to her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice going low. “You should have told me.”
“Because there was nothing much to say.” She turns toward me, and I bring my hand up to rub her cheek with my thumb. She smiles at me and then turns back to her father, my hand going around her waist. “Honestly, I didn’t even think about work. I walked in this morning and was summoned to some board meeting. Only when they started did I realize it was about the sex tape.”
“So you did get fired because of me.” I look down at her as she rolls her eyes at me and grabs her drink to take another sip.
“One, I didn’t get fired,” she says between clenched teeth while glaring at me. She looks at her father, and I swear I see a sparkle in her eye. “I wouldn’t let them fire me. Pfft,” she says, picking up the glass of whiskey again. “Pompous asses,” she mumbles.
“I’ll go to the board and talk to them,” I say, getting closer to her. “I’ll explain what happened.”
She looks down and then looks up, and I can see her struggling and blinking away tears. “I don’t want you”—she points at me and then turns to point at her father—“or especially you, doing anything.” Matthew and I share a look.