Chapter 10 Aurora #2
‘You probably ruffled him. Maybe I’ll get a few days’ peace. Mistress probably won’t thank you, though. He’s putting her kids through university,’ I say.
‘You do realise . . .’ he says, his voice a rich, deep growl with a bite of something that I can’t put my finger on.
‘That if he can hear your TV, he can hear everything you do in here. All your phone conversations. Whether you talk in your sleep. What you sound like when you . . .’ He swallows thickly. ‘When you take a goddamn piss.’
‘I’d rather not think about it, thanks.’
I’m still gripping on to the sleeve of his jacket, so I let go. But as I do, my fingers graze his palm.
He stiffens, sucking in a breath. ‘Does Dove know you live here?’
‘Was there anything else you wanted?’ I ask. I don’t want to explain how I haven’t been able to admit to my best friend exactly how bad things have become since my father got convicted.
The brown envelope burns inside my other hand. I want to shove it back at him, but I know that’ll get me nowhere with the giant tosser. I don’t want his money. It might not have been pity money when he put it in this envelope, but it sure as heck will be now.
‘The offer?’ he drawls. ‘HR informed me you haven’t returned the signed agreement yet.’
‘I don’t want to work with you.’
If my bluntness offends him, he doesn’t let it show.
‘You won’t be. You’ll be working with the marketing team, and maybe Gabriel. Dove said your social media skills are impressive.’
‘I have a vlog. A fashion one.’
His expression remains impassive, like he doesn’t give a toss whether I post about the intricate workings of the London Stock Exchange or sell vials of belly button fluff.
‘Don’t you want to see it before you offer me a job?’
‘It’s a temporary contract,’ he clips.
‘Fine, I won’t be one of the prestigious Fairfax Guardian team,’ I huff, understanding his insinuation that I will be an outsider, not good enough to be considered one of them, ‘but don’t you at least want to see what it is I do to decide whether it’s what you’re looking for? You’re the CEO.’
‘What’s your answer, Aurora?’ he presses.
I grab my phone and scroll through my videos. ‘Look. This is my profile. Are you sure I’m who you want? Dove didn’t . . . She didn’t make you ask me, did she?’
‘I don’t need to see your little black dress video.’ Rafael sighs like he’s bored. ‘And Dove has no idea about us hiring you yet. She’s been out of the office in meetings all day.’
‘Well, I don’t—’
‘Say yes.’
He holds my eyes in challenge, and I stare back, wondering where he gets all his arrogance from. I bet he’s never had anyone say no to him in his entire life. And as much as I really want to, just to see his reaction, I can’t turn down that kind of money, and not only that . . .
I can’t turn down the opportunity.
Dove said Rafael and Dominic Ainsworth are friends and that he visits the office frequently.
If I’m working there I might hear or see something that could help my father, or even get the chance to talk with Dominic myself and ask him how the hell the board of directors thought that my father – one of the company’s highest-performing employees – was the one who stole from them.
Being in the same building as Rafael Fairfax is the fly in the ointment that I’ll have to suck up if I want the chance to see what I can find out from inside the walls of his company.
And God knows the money will help when I get the next bill from the solicitor I’ve asked to assist with my father’s appeal.
But I hate that if I say yes, I’m giving him exactly what he wants.
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘No, you won’t,’ he replies smoothly. ‘People don’t think about working for our company. They’d give up an organ for the chance.’
I wrinkle my nose at the image as Rafael pulls his phone from his pocket and taps something into it.
‘Your contract.’ He turns the screen towards me. ‘Sign it.’
‘I—’
‘Aurora, you’re living in a box unfit for vermin to reside in. Don’t pretend you don’t need the money. We’re being very generous.’
I hold his eyes. He knows he’s got me.
I hate him more in this moment than ever.
Without saying a word, I use my finger to sign my name on the screen.
He looks at it, studying my writing for a second, then pockets his phone.
‘Good girl. Wasn’t so hard, was it?’
I shake my head with a scoff. Condescending prick.
I open the front door to let him out, waiting until he’s in the hallway before I ask, ‘Why didn’t you rat me out me to Tanya?’
He tips his head. ‘Tanya? Ah, yes,’ he says, like he can barely remember her. ‘Didn’t see the point once she fired you. It’s not like you’ll be going back again.’
‘I wouldn’t have had an opportunity to tell her husband about you, you mean?’
‘It crossed my mind. I’d prefer not to take a punch over a woman I didn’t actually—’
‘Have sex with?’ I scoff.
‘Like,’ he clips.
I swallow, trying to ease the rough dryness in my throat.
‘If I’m going to get into a fight over a woman . . .’
He leans closer until his warm breath fans my ear. I hate that I shiver on reflex. And I hate that my pulse rate kicks up at the scent of his cologne, warm on his skin.
‘. . . then she won’t be just anyone. She’ll be . . . mine,’ he growls. ‘You understand?’
He moves back, holding my eyes for a beat.
‘I’ll expect you first thing Monday morning.’ His attention drops to my pyjama shorts and bare legs. ‘Try to find something appropriate to wear. You will be representing Guardian Fairfax, after all.’
I bite back the urge to say something that’ll wipe the infuriating smug look of an overinflated ego from his face.
‘Of course.’ I smile back thinly. ‘Perhaps a little black dress.’
Realisation hits me as the words leave my mouth, and something in Rafael’s eyes heats before his expression turns grim.
‘I’ll leave that up to you. Good night.’
He storms down the hallway and disappears into the emergency exit stairwell rather than waiting for the lift.
I close the door and lean back against it.
He knew one of my videos was titled ‘The perfect LBD’. How would he know that unless he’s seen it? Which he claims not to have done.
Heat flares up my spine, even though I hate the man with a passion.
It means he’s lying about watching them.
But why?