Chapter 3 Chapter Three
KING’S POV
It’s been hours since my unexpected guest from last night left for her room, long enough to purge the single, most eventful thing to happen in the two weeks since I came on this shit trip that’s nothing more than an escape from my chaos and the personal hell I that is my life.
And though I’ve caught myself wondering about her more than I should in that time, I know she’s the exact opposite of what I need right now. I have too much hanging over my head to add a certain intriguing and quite tempting but emotionally fucked spitfire to the mix.
She has no place in my life, not even as a temporary distraction to ease my mind and my need for numbing pleasure.
I spare my phone a glance, caving in to its endless ringing before I haul against the wall like the last one.
“Whatever this is about, it better be good.” I snap into it as Remy’s sigh of relief rings from the other end of the line.
“I mean no offence, boss, but are you trying to get me killed?” He wheezes almost instantly.
For someone who knew exactly what he was getting into when he waltzed into my office a couple years back, bright eyed and eager to be my assistant, Remy is an overly dramatic complain machine that never shuts off.
“What is it this time?”
“It’s fucking Matteo, man. That man scares the shit out of me, he knows it and he makes a play for my life every fucking time you send me to him. Can you please make someone else his point of contact? Maybe Rico he’s scary enough to match him.”
Any other day, I’d be down to listen to Remy ramble and whine about his budding romance with Matteo Andres Perez but this is my time off and I’m not down to waste it on this shit.
“I know you didn’t call me to whine about fucking Matteo. What’s down, Remy?”
“He’s refusing to seal the deal on KINAT in your absence. Says if you’re not on ground then there’s no deal.”
Of course he said that but what’s worse than that is that the fact that the only person who can’t see through that claim is the idiot on the other end of this call.
Remy is one of the most intelligent men I know, a fucking wiz with numbers and it’s the sole reason I’d employed him from the jump, drama and all. But he’s also the dumbest idiot when it comes to Matteo. Of course the bastard’s refusing to seal the deal with him because that keeps bringing my obtuse assistant running back to him every single time. He’ll hold out until the last minute but he’ll deliver. I know he will because he has too much to lose to dare to even toe the line.
Armada Yasuki would make him watch his men put a bullet in his three month old daughter, his wife and his sweet little boy Hugo in a heartbeat with his balls in his mouth for gag if he even dares to disobey standing orders. The man enjoys nothing better than artistic torture and sending people permanently to hell.
He's the only person I know that truly scares me.
The bell from the door goes off, notifying me that I have a visitor and successfully dragging me back to the present.
“Tell him Yasuki wants the shipment docked by tonight, not a day longer, that should solve your little problem. And Remy? I put you in charge in my absence, act like it. Work the team with Rico and stop calling my fucking phone, okay?”
I don’t let him answer, ending the call before he can assault me with his barrage of questions. I have bigger problems than him at the moment.
Going to the door, I push it open to find the person I’m least expecting to see again, staring back at me, looking very different from the utter mess that’d bolted from my room earlier draped in my white sheets like a scene from a costume party gone wrong. Last night was supposed to be a one off but someone apparently didn’t get the message.
“Hey….” She says, thrusting a bottle in front of me, a small smile softening her striking features in ways I didn’t notice last night. “I brought it to apologize again for last night. I had a rough night and lost my head is all I can say.”
She follows my questioning gaze to the bottle when I don’t answer immediately and then quickly adds, “It’s solely for you, I’m not having any of that. I’ve sworn off the damn thing.”
I nod, watching her still. If there’s one thing I’m terribly good at, it’s reading people and her every moment says there’s more she’s yet to say.
“Oh…..Kay, that will be it. I’m really sorry.” She says, averting her eyes.
She scoots a couple steps closer and hands me the wine and then spins on her feet and starts down the hall. She’s only made it a few feet from me when she halts abruptly and turns back with wide, hopeful eyes.
She looks a bit surprised to see me still standing in the doorway watching but who wouldn’t? She’s something of a character.
“Okay, I lied, the apology is not the only reason I’m here. I’m bored out of my mind and can reeeeally use a friend right now and you were my only option. I doubt the girls from last night can stand me now that the party is over.”
She rambles a lot, I’ve noticed.
She tries to make a puppy face to charm an invitation inside out of me but her expression comes shy of something inspired by constipation.
“Pretty pleaseeeeeee.”
Maybe it’s her funny plea face or the comical voice that just audaciously called me, a six foot four man that easily dwarfs her five-five maybe six, pretty. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m actually interested in playing her game against my very better judgment but I move out of the way and say the three words I definitely shouldn’t have.
“Come on in.”