Chapter 9
If I didn’t work myself to the bone for Ford Enterprises after this, I’d feel like I was letting down such a considerate boss.
I watched as Aaron’s car disappeared down the road, my thoughts still lingering on everything that had just happened.
“Claire.”
The voice that broke through my reverie was as unpleasant as nails on a chalkboard.
Nicolas stood there, his face like thunder. “What were you two doing, and why was he the one driving you back?”
“And how exactly is that any of your business?” I shot back more annoyed than surprised that he had the audacity to show up here. It had been so long since I’d seen him, I’d nearly forgotten he existed.
“If you’ve got nothing better to do, focus on paying back the money you owe me. Don’t stand here wasting my time.”
Nicolas scowled, his brows knitting together in frustration.
“What’s gotten into you? It’s been nearly a month–haven’t you thrown your tantrum long enough?”
I laughed outright at that.
“You think this is me throwing a tantrum?”
“Look, I don’t want to argue with you,” he said, the irritation in his voice impossible to miss. “Has Aaron returned the money you lent him? I need forty thousand dollars for my business. It’s urgent.”
Excuse me?
Had I heard him correctly? Was Nicolas genuinely that stupid, or was he just pretending not to understand how reality worked?
“Nicolas, are you out of your mind?” I snapped. “I saw all those disgusting things you posted about me, still have the nerve to come here and ask for money?”
and you
“You’re actually breaking up with me?” Nicolas stared at me like I’d grown a second head, his expression one of utter disbelief–as if the idea of me leaving him was incomprehensible.
“Claire, are you sure you want to end things?”
He raised his voice, looking at me like I’d personally wronged him. “Who was it a year ago, drunk off her ass, confessing she’d liked me since high school and asking if we could be together?”
His accusatory tone might have been intimidating if it weren’t so absurd.
Yes, I had liked him.
But I had liked the memory of who he used to be–an open, cheerful, athletic boy who lit up a room with his smile. Not this person standing in front of me now: a manipulative, self–absorbed man reeking of entitlement and bitterness.
