Page 28 of Unsuitable

I stop in shock, muddy water dripping down my face.

The bastard hit a puddle at the side of the road and gave me a muddy-water drenching.

I grit my teeth together. “Wanker, bastard, thoughtless twat of a four-by-four driver!” I seethe to myself, stomping my foot.

I drag my hand down my face, clearing away the muddy water.

Can this day get any worse?

And it’s barely even started.

I still haven’t had a call back from Anne, which is stressing me out.

I weirdly overslept this morning, meaning I didn’t do my run, and I nearly missed my train. It was only light drizzling when I got on the train. Then, I had to stand the whole journey here, as there were no seats, because, apparently, the world and his wife were using the train this morning. I stepped off in Westcott, and the heavens opened, the sky raining down like it was preparing for the Great Flood.

I hadn’t brought an umbrella with me because I thought I’d be okay with my raincoat. And I was doing okay until four-by-four dickhead soaked me through to the bone.

Okay, so, evidently, my day can get worse because when I zero my eyes in on the taillights of the four-by-four, I see that it’s slowing and turning into the Matis Estate.

I growl. I actually growl and pick up my pace, heading for the car, which is stationary, waiting for the gates to open.

With the windows blacked out, I can’t see inside, but I don’t care because I’m mad. I’m soaked and mad. Not a good combination.

Reaching the car, I rap my knuckles on the passenger window. “Hey, buddy,” I say in a pissy tone. “You just soaked me back there! Watch where you’re going next time. And I’m sorry I just drenched you would’ve been goo—” The words die on my tongue when the window rolls down, and I see who’s in the car.

“Mr. Matis.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He already hates me. And, now, I’ve just banged on his car window and yelled at him.

I’m so fired.

His black eyes move over me. I see a flicker of humor in them.

He’s laughing at me.

Bastard.

“Daisy. Good morning. Or maybe not, as the case might be for you.”

I bite my tongue so hard that I draw blood, tasting metallic in my mouth.

I’m gonna…I’m gonna…

Walk away.

It’s either that or punch him in the throat, and I don’t think punching my boss would be a good idea. It’d be my fast pass back to prison.

And I really don’t want that.

Jesse. Think about Jesse.

Jaw locked, I swivel on my toe and walk through the open gates.

I’m speed-walking, sticking to the edge to keep out of the way of his car for when he drives past me.

My hands are balled into fists. And I honestly feel like I could cry.