Page 90 of Ruthless Ambition
When I was parked in the parking lot at work, I turned to her. “You get any mail, email, phone calls, deliveries—”
“I get it, tell you.” Angel looked around the parking lot. “I feel like he’s already watching.”
“Then give him something to watch,” I told her as I got out.
“Like what?” she asked as we got into the elevator together.
“Just be yourself; show him he has no control over you.”
“I don’t like this,” Angel muttered as we got to my floor.
“What?”
“Us. This.”
“There is no us, or this,” I reminded her.
Her breath of relief was loud. “Good, I can’t stand the thought of having to be nice to you.”
“I expect the same as always,” I replied dryly as I saw Neil walk toward us. “Just forget you came all over my cock last night and you’ll be fine.”
Neil’s startled cough alerted Angel that he was there, and she turned to look at him as she hisseddickat me. Leaving her tothatconversation, I headed into my office.
Filtering through my emails, I looked up when she passed by several minutes later. Her rage permeated through the glass, and as I had done for the last eighteen months, I ignored her.
Last night was a blip. Tension had been high, and we both needed an outlet.
In the cold light of the morning, I knew I couldn’t fuck her again. It would complicate things, and Angel Balan and I were already complicated enough.
Calling Cooper, I knew I woke him up.
“She went to Dallas, she met with a college freshman and his dad, and the dad was in a hit-and-run car accident. Find out who the other driver was.”
“You think it’s her?”
“She bent over backward to get this kid an agent. I want to know why.”
“Fine, but I think you’re wasting your time,” he said calmly.
“The kid’s connected. She doesn’t do anything without motive.”
“I’ll look into it again,” he told me.
When he was gone, I called Charlie. “I want to know everything about who Sasha Fitzpatrick has been with in the past two months, including you.”
“She’s crazy enough to do it, but she wouldn’t,” he told me.
“Think with the head on your shoulders, not the one between your legs,” I snapped. “Check her and her fuck buddies. She may not be the one doing it, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t found help. Or inspired some shithead to think he’s helping her. Men are pricks for tight pussy.”
“I’m on it.”
My fingers drummed on my desk as I thought about the words I had just said. Menwerepricks for pussy, me included.
