Uhhh . . .
Yeah.
Blinking a few times, I ask, “Angela, what is going on? You just said I make you a ton of money—”
“Did I? I don’t recall making such a statement. Boys, did I say anything like that?”
They all shake their head.
“See? I didn’t say that.”
I think . . . yup, mmm-hmm, do you smell that? That’s my brain smoking, working overtime, trying to not LOSE IT!
Calmly, and I mean . . . calmly, I ask, “Angela, can you please explain to me why you’re letting me go?”
“Oh.” She laughs. “You’ve always been such a nosey little thing.” The assistant brings Angela her water and then rushes away. Sucking from an unnecessary straw, Angela takes a long sip and then says, “Your one-year anniversary is on Friday.”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“Well, per your contract, it says that after a year, you’re no longer under restricted pay, but instead receive your actual salary.” She shrugs. “Why pay you more when I can find someone to do your job for less? Simple bottom-line thinking. You understand.”
“No, I don’t.” My voice rises and two large hands land on my shoulder in warning.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Angela, this is my life, this isn’t some game you get to play. You told me when you begged me to work for you that this job was going to be life-changing.”
“And hasn’t it been?” She holds her arms out. “Angeloop is life-changing for everyone.” She glances at her watch. “Oh, I have to get naked in five. Spray tans don’t wait.” She twirls her finger at the guys beside me. “Wrap it up, boys.”
Two sets of hands grip me and help me up from my chair.
“You can’t be serious,” I say, still not quite grasping what’s going on. “You’re having security drag me out of your office?”
“Not by my choice,” Angela says, the picture of innocence. “Your hostile attitude is making me use security.”
“Hostile?” I ask. “I’m hostile because you’re firing me for no reason.”
“Oh, honey, I can’t believe you see it that way,” she says in that condescending voice of hers. “This is nothing personal. You know I love you and still plan on your monthly invitation to brunch. This is just business.” She blows me a kiss. “Still my bestie.”
She’s lost her goddamn mind.
I’m pulled toward the door but I dig in my two-seasons-ago Jimmy Choo heels. “Angela, seriously. You can’t be firing me.”
She looks up at me, tilts her head to the side, and then presses her hand to her heart. “Ahh, look at you, fighting for your job. God, you’ve always been scrappy.” She blows me another kiss, waves, and calls out, “I’ll call you. You can tell me about your horrible boss later. Oh . . . and don’t forget to RSVP to our high school reunion. Two months away. We need a head count.”
And just like that, defeat whips through me, my heels let up in total shock, my body goes limp, and I’m dragged by my underarms through the offices of Angeloop, the most idiotic and absurd lifestyle blog on the Internet, a place where I didn’t want to work in the first place.
Peers watch me.
Security doesn’t skip a beat as they drag me all the way through the tall, glass front door.
And before I can take my next breath, I’m staring at the obscenely large Angeloop sign outside of the office, box of my office things in hand.
How the hell did this all happen?
Chapter One
HUXLEY
“I’m going to fucking murder someone,” I shout as I throw my suit jacket across my office and slam my door.
“Seems as though the meeting went well,” JP says from where he’s leaning against the expansive wall of windows in my office.
“Seems as though it went incredibly well,” Breaker offers from where he’s lying across my leather couch.
Ignoring my brothers’ sarcasm, I grip my hair and turn toward the view of Los Angeles. It’s a clear day today, fresh rain from the night before eliminating some of the smog in the air. Palm trees reach high to the sky, lining the roads, but look small compared to where my office sits above the rest.
“Care to gab about it?” JP asks while taking a seat in a chair.
I turn toward them, my brothers, the two idiots who have been by my side through thick and thin. Who have ridden the ups and downs of our lives. Who have dropped everything to join me in this crazy idea of taking over the real estate market in Los Angeles with the money Dad left us when he passed. We’ve built this empire together.
But the smarmy looks on their faces makes me want to punt their goddamn dicks out of my office.
“Does it look like I want to gab about it?”
“No.” Breaker smirks. “But fuck do we want to hear all about it.”
Of course they do.
Because they were the ones who said I shouldn’t meet with Dave Toney.
They were the ones who said it was going to be a waste of my time.
They were the ones who laughed when I said I had a meeting with him today.
And they were the ones who sarcastically said good luck as I walked out the door.
But I wanted to prove them wrong.
I wanted to show them that I could convince Dave Toney that he needed to work with Cane Enterprises.
Spoiler alert—I did not convince him.
Capitulating to my brothers’ stares, I take a seat as well and let out a long sigh. “Fuck,” I mutter.
“Let me guess, he didn’t fall for your charm?” Breaker asks. “But you’re so personable.”
“That shit shouldn’t matter.” I slam my finger into the armrest of my plush leather chair. “This is business, not some goddamn parade of nurturing friendships and coddling one another.”
“I think he missed something in business school,” JP says to Breaker. “Because wasn’t fostering business relationships an entire course?” His sarcasm is grating on my nerves.
“I believe it was,” Breaker says.
“I went in there and kissed his ass—what more does he want?”
“Did you wear lipstick? Not sure his girlfriend would appreciate finding another pair of lips on her man’s ass cheeks.” Breaker smirks.
“I hate you. I really fucking hate you.”
Breaker lets out a bark of a laugh while JP says, “Hate to say it, but . . . we told you so, bro. Dave Toney doesn’t work with just anyone. He’s a different breed in this city. Many have tried to break into the vast amount of real estate he owns; many have failed. Why did you think you’d be any different?”
“Because we’re Cane Enterprises,” I shout. “Everyone wants to fucking work with us. Because we have the largest real estate portfolio in Los Angeles. Because we can turn a broken-down building into a million-dollar business in a year. We know what the fuck we’re doing, and Dave Toney, although successful, has some dead pieces of land on his hands that’s hurting his business. He knows it, I fucking know it, and I want to take those pieces of land off his hands.”
JP grips his chin and asks, “What precisely did you say to him? I hope not that? Because, although your little speech made my nipples hard, I doubt he’d appreciate the tone.”