“Just about your circumstances now—”
“I have a place to live. My best friend’s apartment. I’m living with her, paying rent.” Not that Cece will talk to me about paying rent, but I will be giving her money as soon as I get paid. “It’s a really nice place in Sutton, and it has three bedrooms. One is for Jesse. I have a job. I’m a maid at a big estate house in Surrey. So, I’m in a really good position to care for Jesse now, and I really—”
“That’s wonderful, Daisy,” she cuts me off. “I am so pleased that everything is coming together for you. I’d love to see your new place. So, how about I come to visit? We can have a chat and go from there.”
I slump back onto my haunches, disappointed, knowing that I’m not going to see Jesse anytime soon.
“Sounds great,” I say, trying to inject enthusiasm into my voice that just isn’t there.
“Fabulous. Now, looking at my calendar, I’m free on Friday at five p.m.”
“I work until six, and it takes me just over an hour to get home.”
“Oh, well, how about I come at six? You could ask your employer if you can leave an hour early. I’m sure if you explain your reason for needing the time, your employer will be understanding.”
Kas understanding? Ha. Not likely.
However, he was nice to me earlier, bringing me the clothes and apologizing. Maybe his hard shell is softening toward me.
There might just be some kindness in him.
“I’ll ask and let you know.”
“Fabulous. Speak soon.”
Hanging up my phone, I stash it back in my bra.
She wants to come to my place at six, which means I’ll need to leave at four. It takes me an hour and twenty minutes with the train journey and the walks to and from the train stations. And I’ll need to shower before she arrives, so I don’t stink of cleaning products.
That means I’ll have to ask Kas if I can leave two hours early.
I dread the thought.
But knowing I have no choice but to ask—because this is about Jesse, and he’s all that matters—I push to my feet, which are still bare.
I make my way out of the bathroom and pad down the carpeted stairs, heading for Kas’s office. Nerves are tumbling around in my stomach.
Come on, Daisy. The worst he can say is no.
And be an arsehole about it.
Sucking it up, I lift my chin and march toward his office. I reach his office door and knock on it.
“What?” he barks from the other side.
Okay…that isn’t a good start.
Reaching for the handle, I turn it and let myself in his office before closing the door behind me.
I turn to face him, and he’s leaning back in his chair, arms on the rests, staring at me with those coal-black eyes of his.
My stomach flips, and I suddenly feel queasy. I bind my hands together in front of me.
His eyes follow the movement and then shoot back up to my face. “Are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to tell me what you want?”
I guess the nice clothes-bringing-and-apologizing Kas is gone, and Kas-hole is back.
I swallow nervously. “Mr. Matis, I know this is only my second day working here, and I really do hate to ask…but I was wondering, if I came in an hour early on Friday and worked through my lunch, would it be possible for me to leave at four instead of six?”
“No.” He sits forward in his seat and turns the chair to his computer.
Bolts of frustration and anger fly around me, buzzing like bees in my head. I’m not normally quick to temper, but this guy makes me want to scream my head off.
Dropping my hands to my sides, I curl my fingers into my palms. “Mr. Matis, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important—”
“And what’s so important that you have to leave work? A hair appointment? Nail appointment?” His eyes drag over me. “But then, looking at you, I’d say it’s neither of those things. So, what is so important that you have to leave work early?”
Mother…effer.
I take a step back, affronted. “I’m sorry, but have I done something to give you the impression that I deserve to be talked to like this? I know I’ve been in prison, but that doesn’t give you the right to judge me for it. You don’t even know me.” Even as I say the words, I know how ineffectual they are because they sound weak to my own ears.
Fire lights his eyes. The look in them makes me want to take a step back.
He looks like a scary-arse fire-breathing dragon.
He leans forward, pressing his hands to the desk. His voice is so low that I feel the temperature in the room drop. “Trust me,” he seethes, “that’s not what I’m judging you on.”
What?
“God, you’re a—” I bite my lip to stop the words from coming out.
“I’m a what, Daisy?” Then, he smirks.
The bastard smirks.
I have a vision of wiping that smirk off using the chair he’s sitting on.
I’ve never been one for violence, but this guy just brings it out of me.
Closing my eyes, I blow out a calming breath, wishing I were anywhere but here.
Why does this guy hate me so much?
“Unless you’re a magician or you’ve figured out the theory of time travel, I’m still going to be sitting here when you open your eyes.”
Argh! I want to throttle him!
Going back inside for murder is looking pretty appealing right now.