SCANDALOUS

“For God’s sake, Rexroth. She is going to be an assistant, not an account manager.” Jordan’s impatient wave did nothing to make matters better. His grip on my arm became so tight, my bones were ready to pop, sticking out of my skin.

“She is going to be on this floor, have access to our things. I don’t care if her job is to peel bananas in the kitchen. This goes to a board meeting tomorrow morning. End of discussion,” Trent growled.

All eyes were on him, the dark energy in the room buzzing with shock. The Mute had spoken. Not only a few words—but sentences. And it was because of me, no less.

I’d finally found him. The one man scarier than my father. Not that I was looking. Because while Vicious made a lot of noise, Trent Rexroth was the silent hunter who would circle you for hours, striking when you least expected it.

A desolate panther. Wild, quiet, and slick. His pale, cold eyes ran the length of my father like he was muck, coming to stop where his hand held my arm like a vise grip. I’d never seen anyone look at my father with such disdain. Jordan’s fingers eased on my skin.

“You’re really going to fight me over this.” My father scrubbed his smooth cheek with his knuckles, incredulous. Figures. He was so used to my mother and me bowing our heads to his every whim, I wasn’t entirely sure I wasn’t Team Rexroth. Sure, The Mute didn’t want me around—but I didn’t want to be around, either, so we were on the same wavelength. Trent stopped his stride inches from Father, where I was able to breathe in his singular scent, of a clean man and a dirty fuck. He oozed sensuality, making me want messy, forbidden things. My reaction to him was almost sickening, and I made another mental note to stay away from him.

Trent tipped his head down to meet my father’s eyes, whispering darkly, “I would fight you to death over anything, Jordan, including the service provider for the coffee machine, if need be.”

Bad blood. This place was like poison to the soul. Luckily, it looked like Rexroth hated me, and the HotHoles always had each other’s backs. That was the legend in All Saints High, and I very much doubted they’d break their tradition for little ol’ moi.

“Fine,” Jordan bit out. “We’ll take it to the boardroom.”

Trent’s gaze cut to mine and stopped when his grays met my blues. The fading noise of Vicious barking at people to move along, and my father finally letting go of my arm to move toward Jaime and Dean—probably trying to gain both allies and sympathy—died down.

“I don’t like you,” Rexroth whispered under his breath, his voice harsh.

“I never asked you to.” I shrugged.

“You won’t be working here.” His arm brushed my shoulder, but I didn’t think it was by accident. I let loose a sugary smile, sca

The low blow was supposed to retrieve some of my lost dignity, but bile burned my throat, shotgu

Had I really just tried to make him feel less worthy because he wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth? It made me sicker than wearing my mother’s designer garbs.

Trent smiled, leaning into my body, into my soul. His smirk was more frightening than any scowl, frown, or grimace I’d ever seen. It threatened to tear me apart and sew me back together however he pleased.

“Edie.” His lips were dangerously close to my ear. A delicious shiver moved down my spine. Something warm rolled inside of me, begging to unknot and flower into an orgasm. What was happening, and why the hell was it happening? “If you know what’s best for you, you will turn around and leave right now.”

I elevated my head to meet his gaze and showed him my version of a grin. I was born and raised in a world of intimidating rich men, and I’d be damned if I go down like my mother—addicted to xanax, Gucci, and a man who paraded her on his arm for a short, glorious decade before keeping her solely for public appearances.

“I think I’m going to go find my desk now. I’d wish you a good day, Mr. Rexroth, but I think that ship has sailed. You’re a miserable man. Oh, and one for the road.” I fished for a Nature Valley bar in my mother’s purse and plastered it to his hard, muscled chest. My heart slammed into my neck, fluttering like a caged bird.

I hurried after my father as he glided down the vast, golden-hued hallway, not daring to look back. Knowing I’d started a war and arrived unequipped. But I also knew something else that gave me a surfer’s rush—if I could slam the final nail in my employment coffin and make Rexroth vote against me, I’d be off the hook.

I had just the plan for it. All I had to do was act like a brat. Game on.