Happily Enemy After (Hawthorne Brothers Book 2) by Ashlee Price

Author:Ashlee Price [Price, Ashlee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Asher

I thought Violet and I would have had sex by now.

These past few days, I’ve caught glimpses of her agonizing over the decision I asked her to make. Each time, I felt a combination of annoyance and pity. I wanted to just go over to her and put her out of her misery, out of both our miseries. But no. She has to be the one to make the move. I know what I want. She has to do the same.

Yesterday, when our eyes met and I saw a gleam in them I’d never seen before, when the corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly, I thought she was finally ready to give in. I thought tonight would be our night.

Instead, today, she’s more hostile than ever, which is a pity because she looks so hot in her red dress. Each time our eyes have met, she’s either rolled her eyes or glared at me. Once, she even cursed under her breath. And not the ‘I’m screwed’ kind of curse but the ‘I don’t deserve this’ kind, which makes me think I’ve done something to offend her.

At this meeting, she’s been nothing but rude. She tried to interrupt me or contradict me at least a dozen times during the first few minutes. Then she just stopped listening whenever I talked and didn’t even bother to hide it. Obviously, she’s mad at me. Everyone in the room can see it. The question is: Why?

What did I do?

I decide to ask her after the meeting. As her boss, I can’t tolerate this kind of behavior. As someone waiting for her to make up her mind whether she hates me or wants me, I’m concerned. Either way, I have to know the reason for her tantrum.

As soon as the meeting is over, Violet tries to leave ahead of the rest of the people in the room. I stop her before she reaches the door.

“Ms. Cleary?”

Her shoulders sink as she stops in her tracks.

“You and I still have a few things to discuss.”

“Fine,” she mutters.

She stomps back to the table and drops into the chair furthest away from mine, closest to the door. She crosses her arms beneath her breasts. Her lips are glued into a pout. Somehow, she reminds me of a kid who hasn’t been allowed to leave the dinner table to go play because she hasn’t finished her vegetables.

I wait for the other people who were at the meeting to leave the conference room. Then I close the door and lock it. I don’t plan on letting Violet out until I get to the bottom of this newfound resentment, and I don’t want anyone to interrupt us while I’m interrogating her.

I lean against the long table, leaving an empty chair between Violet and me to give her some space. I grip the edge and clear my throat.

“Is this PMS or something else?”

“PMS,” Violet answers.

Yeah right.

“Liar,” I scoff.

“Excuse me? Did you just call me a—?”

“Liar,” I repeat as I look at her.

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