Chapter 9 A Marked Beginning
POV Damian:
It must have been about half an hour when the phone on my desk started ringing; despite myself I answered — maybe it was Amanda calling to tell me what day Miss Monroe starts working for me. I set my gold pen on top of the papers I was signing and picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Blackwell, could you come down to reception?” Amanda’s tone was alarmed and I frowned; I didn’t understand why she sounded so urgent.
“Did something happen?” I asked, rising and buttoning my suit.
“The security guard told me your car was…” She fell silent and my blood heated.
“What happened to my car?” I growled into the phone — my car is my pride and joy.
“A woman climbed onto your car and wrote a word on the window.” My nostrils flared, and without caring that Amanda was still on the line I hung up in her face and ran to where my baby was.
...
Pissed. I am pissed and furious.
I read once more the word that presumptuous woman had written with red lipstick in huge letters on my car, and consider calling the police to have her arrested for vandalism. What was she thinking to take such a step? Damn — I hired her; did she think I was playing games with her? Does she even have any idea how much a car like that costs? I rub my beard, not knowing what to do. I’m too angry to reason logically.
ASSHOLE
The word seems to sneer at me. I want to go after her and make her wash it off with that filthy tongue. Oh, clueless woman. I return to the office and hand the keys to Amanda, asking her politely to call the company that regularly cleans my car so they can come pick it up. I can’t stay here any longer, or I’ll end up taking it out on someone who doesn’t deserve it.
I’d better never see you again, Miss Monroe, because you’ve just entered my list of enemies.
(...)
POV Scarlett:
Asshole. Selfish asshole!
Argh! How angry, how full of hate, how badly I want to punch that pretentious face. Yes — punch it hard. He didn’t even give me a chance, all because of a job opening? Stupid man. Because of him I’m so irritated I could kill someone. I’m in the elevator, my eyes fixed on the floor numbers as we pass them. I wish the elevator would go down faster; I need to know if the asshole had the nerve to call a tow truck for the car, or if he was only trying to scare me. Because if he did call… I’d better hope he didn’t.
The elevator doors open on the fifth floor and I run into a man absorbed in his phone. His casual clothes made me frown — who comes into a prestigious firm wearing sweatpants and a simple T-shirt? And what business of mine is it anyway? I should mind my own business; I make more money than that.
“Good morning,” he greeted me with a bright smile, and I murmured a low reply. I’m too angry to be polite. “You look upset — or is that just my impression?”
What an intrusive man — why doesn’t he mind his own business?
“I am,” I answered bluntly.
“Did someone here do something you didn’t like?” The note of concern in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. For that reason — and only that — I decided to open up to this stranger and vent all my anger and frustration.
“Yes, a tremendous asshole,” I said, and he raised an eyebrow, wanting to hear more. “Mr. Blackwell,” I added, crossing my arms indignantly, and he broke into a smile.
“Which one?” How many of them are there?
“I don’t know — the one looking for a new secretary,” I said, shrugging.
“Oh, I know which one.”
“Good for you. All I want is for him to go to hell…” I fell silent; the man in front of me wasn’t responsible for my irritation.
“Never mind.”
We were silent and it didn’t take long for the elevator doors to open into the lobby. I hurried toward where I’d left the car, and the son of a bitch really had asked to have it towed.
“Asshole!” I shouted aloud, even knowing he isn’t here to hear my insults.
“Me?” I was surprised by the voice of the elevator man at my side.
“No.” I pointed to the empty parking space. “Asshole Blackwell. I parked the car here…”
“Wait — you parked here?” the man interrupted, astonished.
“Yes, duh.” I shrugged. “I didn’t see his name anywhere.” I huffed.
“I get it,” he said, running a hand over his lips to hide a smile I could see. “Do you need me to call a taxi, or help you with anything?” He’s cute. And, of course, drop-dead gorgeous.
Looking around I saw several cars stopped there, and an evil idea came to me. This will teach that man a lesson.
“Could you tell me which one is the asshole Blackwell’s car?” I smiled mischievously.
“May I ask why?” he said.
I nodded and opened my purse, taking out my red lipstick.
“I want to leave a cute little note for him.” The stranger smiled and obligingly pointed to the car at the end of the row. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, babe.” He winked at me and I felt my cheeks heat. “But if I were you I’d do it fast; from what I heard, he asked his brother to pick up his car and park it in his spot.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll do it quickly.” I picked up the pace, but I heard the man call after me and I stopped.
“What’s your name?” he asked loudly, a playful smile on his lips.
“Scarlett!” I shouted back, returning his smile. “And yours?”
“Noah,” he shouted back.
“Thanks, Noah.”
“Don’t mention it, babe.”
Smiling, I walked to the asshole’s car to leave my cute little note for him. I hope he enjoys it as much as I am enjoying it.