4. Jerk-Boyfriend Purging Ritual
4
JERK-BOYFRIEND PURGING RITUAL
DAISY
“Daisy?”
His voice cuts through the silence again, but I keep my eyes tightly shut. Maybe, just maybe, if I wish hard enough, this will all turn out to be a dream, and my boss won’t actually find me standing next to a trash bin holding nude photos of my ex.
But when have any of my wishes come true?
My friends exchange pleasantries with Charles, oblivious to my silent plea for the ground to swallow me whole in my moment of mortification.
“What are you all doing out here in this chilly weather?” Charles’ voice holds a hint of both amusement and surprise.
You can’t remain frozen like a statue forever, Daisy. You’ll have to confront this embarrassment head-on.
As I slowly turn around, a momentary relief washes over me when I notice his bodyguards. Thankfully, they’re far enough away not to see the details of the pictures in my hand. So while they might still consider me crazy, at least they won’t peg me as a pervert.
When my gaze lands on his face, he’s biting the inside of his cheek, trying to stifle a laugh. Asshole .
His eyes flicker between me and the photos in my hand before I quickly tuck them behind my back. There’s no way he missed them. I curse the overly bright festival lights that seem to illuminate every hidden corner tonight.
“We were just about to head in,” I manage, slipping the pictures back into my purse. There’s nothing I can do to wipe that smug grin off Charles’ face tonight.
My friends head into the restaurant, and before I can follow them, Charles gently grasps my elbow, halting my movement.
“You girls don’t plan to get drunk in addition to this, right?” He tips his head toward the dumpster without his gaze leaving my face. “If you are, I’ll send the driver.”
“Of course you will. Heaven forbid I fall sick before your interview, right?”
For just a second, his forehead puckers as if in confusion, but before I can make anything out of it, his face once again has that smirk.
“Absolutely. So keep yourself safe, Daisy Price. You’re extremely valuable to me until next week.”
As Charles saunters off, his grin lingering, I storm back into the restaurant. “You are so dead, Vi. How am I going to go back to work tomorrow and face my boss?”
“What do you mean?” Violet’s jaw slackens as she stares at me in disbelief. “Did you miss what just happened? We asked for a prince, and Charles strolled in. Who else is more princely in this town than Charles Hawthorne?”
“Holy crap!” Willow gasps.
“I can’t believe it!” Elodie’s voice is filled with awe.
“Are you all out of your minds?” I throw my hands into the air. “Charles is the furthest thing from my prince , if I even have one!” I sink into my chair. “He saw those pictures in my hand. He probably thinks I’m some kind of pervert.” I groan, banging my head against the table.
I imagine every possible scenario where Charles won’t be ridiculing me tomorrow, but short of getting hit by a truck and ending up in a coma, there’s no escape.
Dragging my feet, I enter the office building.
As I pass through all the security protocols to reach Charles’ floor, I earnestly pray for a glitch to keep me outside, away from my boss. But of course, everything runs smoothly today like every other day.
I don’t even bother swapping my heels for comfy fur slippers this morning, knowing he’ll summon me soon enough.
And have I ever been wrong when it comes to my boss?
Logging in to my computer, I find his email on the top of my inbox.
From: CHARLES A. HAWTHORNE
To: DAISY PRICE
I would like to discuss something urgent with you. See me in my office as soon as you get this email.
- Charles A. Hawthorne
CEO, Hawthorne Holdings &
Board of Directors, Elixir Inc.
Urgent, my foot.
Ignoring the message, I focus on the real urgent emails in my inbox until my desk phone buzzes.
“Daisy, can you come in here, please?” His voice is a blend of honey and wine, a sweet and dangerous combination. The please sounded less like a request and more like a demand.
“If it’s not urgent, I’d like to go through my emails first.”
“Did you miss my message? As I mentioned, this is extremely urgent.”
“I didn’t see it. It must be buried in my unread emails.”
Charles chuckles, sending goose bumps across my skin.
“You know I get read receipts on my emails, right?”
Asshole .
“Don’t waste time, Daisy. Come in.”
I end the call, my shoulders slumping with resignation. There’s no escape.
Grabbing a pen and a Post-it pad without worrying about the color, I drag my feet toward his office. Knocking once on the door, I enter to find Charles leaning back in his chair, his smug smile intact.
For a moment, I’m starstruck, forgetting I’m annoyed with him. He’s wearing one of my favorite ties, dark purple, with a sleek black suit and a crisp white shirt. He brings his pen closer to his lips, golden metal gleaming against pink, the diamond-studded H of his family crest sparkling.
But when he curls his lips, clearly relishing in my discomfort, the veil of lust drops from my eyes. Straightening my shoulders, I meet his haughty grin head-on.
I slam the Post-it pad onto his desk with force and plant my hands firmly beside it. “Let’s hear it. You want to make fun of me? Go ahead.”
His smile falters, his gaze finally falling, and I follow it to the standard yellow Post-it pad—the one color I barely use. But I’m like a wild, untamed spirit right now. I’ve had enough of men mistaking my politeness for weakness.
“What? No words? Let me help you, then. Yes, I’m crazy. Yes, I was outside a family restaurant holding a bunch of almost nude pictures. And no, I don’t have an explanation for my behavior.” My throat tightens, and I avert my gaze, unable to meet his eyes.
A heavy silence hangs between us until Charles rises from his chair and strides over to the minibar. He returns with a water bottle, a glass, and one of the pink-and-gold unicorn napkins I’ve been keeping there all week. After carefully filling the glass halfway, he places it on top of the napkin.
A sad chuckle, which sounds more like a cough, escapes me. He arches an eyebrow, and I offer a shrug.
“You’re such a control freak,” I mutter. “I’m sure someone like you would never find themselves in such an embarrassing situation.”
“And what situation are we talking about here?”
“I didn’t know you were such a dense man, Charles.” I narrow my eyes on him, which of course doesn’t work with my boss. “The one where I come off as a prev. Happy?”
I divert my gaze to the table, fixating on the sleek surface even when he leans against its edge.
I can see from the corner of my eye the smooth fabric of his pants clinging to his thighs like a second skin. They scream wealth and power.
“I never took you for a pervert. If I had to guess, you and your friends were performing a jerk-boyfriend purging ritual.”
What the heck?
“How do you know about that?” I gasp. “I thought it was something Violet just made up to cheer me up.”
“You do know I have a sister, right? I’ve done all sorts of crazy stuff for her, including summoning Mother Nature and the Supreme Goddess to a bonfire.”
“Holy crap! I can’t freaking believe it.”
Could this man get any more perfect? Suddenly, I’m jealous of Chloe and whatever heiress Charles is meant to marry.
“One thing I didn’t understand, though. Why were you burning pictures of him without his clothes on? As far as I know, the goddesses aren’t biased on the level of nudity.”
“You’re definitely more informed on the subject than I am.” I cross my arms. But when he waits for my reply to his question, I sigh. “It’s not like I went around with a camera, desperately trying to catch him naked. He sent them to me.”
“He sent you his pictures of his junk? Including the one in a pink brief?” As usual, Charles’ way of showing surprise is just a raise of an eyebrow, but I don’t miss his clenched jaw.
“So you saw that too?”
“It was quite…unmissable.”
Contrary to how I thought this morning would go, I suddenly feel much better. But then I remember Jax’s text from this morning with the subject “WOOD MORNING.” There was a matching picture, thankfully with his dick hidden behind white briefs this time.
“He sent more?” Charles doesn’t wait for my response and extends his hand. “Show me.”
“I’m doing no such thing.” I’m not going to embarrass myself further.
“You think I’m interested in him?”
“Are you?”
“What?” He blinks rapidly, as if in shock.
“Are you interested in him? Because since I’ve worked here, I haven’t seen you interested in a woman.”
“No, Daisy Price, I’m not interested in your ex or any other man, and I’d rather not have this conversation ever again. But when my assistant burns faceless pictures of a man’s junk in a public trash can with her friends, I have to be a little concerned. What if the media thinks it’s me in those pictures?” His icy-blue eyes narrow on me as my stomach drops.
“W-what?”
I’m lost for words. Could that happen? Absolutely. But instead of worrying about Charles and my potentially ruined reputation, I’m wondering just how different his pictures would be. I’m sure there’s a pretty “decent” package hiding behind those gray XL boxers.
Before my eyes can drift up to his groin, Charles clears his throat. His amused grin makes my cheeks flush. It’s as if he knows what I’m thinking.
I take out my phone from the pocket of my jacket, unlock it, and cringe at the sight of yet another text from Jax. I don’t even bother looking at it and place my phone into Charles’ waiting hands before flopping down on a chair.
Every trace of amusement drops from his face, and his fingers swipe the screen. His jaw tightens as he places the phone onto the table after initiating an outgoing call.
“Charles, what the heck? I don’t want to talk to Jax.” I jolt in my seat, my hands going to hit the end call button, but they’re stopped in midair by his.
“And you won’t have to,” he grinds out, moments before Jax’s voice fills the air.
“Daisy, is that you, babe? Finally! Thank God you contacted me. I knew you could only resist my charm for so long. You, my sex-crazed nymph—”
Before I can scream at Jax to shut the fuck up, Charles leans forward. “You better stop right there.” His voice is sterner than I’ve ever heard it. It has the strength to silence a room full of people, and my ex is no exception.
When Jax finally finds his voice, it sounds irritated and whiny. “Who the hell are you?”
“None of your fucking business. But if I catch you contacting Daisy again, those nude pics you’re so proud of will be plastered all over town, and this time your face will be on them.”
“How…how do you know about my messages?” There’s shock and even underlying fear in his words.
“Remember what I said—you in those pink briefs on every damn billboard in this town.”
With a decisive click, Charles ends the call. He circles the desk, and when he perches back on his chair, he’s once again the same composed person who rarely loses control.
There’s no doubt in my mind that what just happened was a rarity. And I don’t know how I feel about it—flattered, embarrassed, shocked, or maybe a cocktail of all those emotions.
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that. I could have handled Jax,” I say.
His gaze flickers to my face. “I never questioned your ability to handle him. But only a sexist man sends pictures of his junk to his ex. I wouldn’t be surprised if he causes a scene when it finally gets to his thick brain that you’re not taking him back. That’s the intention, right? Or…” His voice trails off, lower than usual.
“Absolutely not. Jax and I are over. We’ve been over for a long time. This just makes it official. I’m a proudly single girl.”
I might be much more distracted by Jax than I thought. Why else would the emotions on Charles’ face look like relief at hearing my single status unless I’m hallucinating?
Before I can read further into the foreign expression on my boss’ face, he averts his gaze.
With a key from his wallet, he unlocks the confidential top drawer of his desk. There are very few things in Charles’ world that are off-limits to me, and this drawer is one of them.
Am I curious? Absolutely.
Do I have my suspicions? Certainly.
Anything from baseball cards to porn could be hiding in there. He’s a man, after all, even if this town likes to think otherwise.
But today, he pulls out a pink Post-it notepad and pushes it toward me across the table. “If we’re done sorting personal affairs, let’s get down to some actual work.”