It’s what’s expected of me. To show up whenever I feel like it. Not to take anything seriously. Because I’m heir to the Maddox throne. The one that all of New York has their eye on.
But today, this meeting…. it’s actually important to me, though I’d never admit that out loud. Because there will be investors in that room. Investors I have every intention of impressing later on. But I’m not off to a good start this morning. And when I arrive late, only to be greeted by one of Richard’s disapproving looks, it isn’t going to bode well for me. He won’t hesitate to give me the same stale lecture about getting my life together. My father and I seem to have wildly conflicting ideas of what that actually means.
I have my own plans, plans that nobody approves of. It seems like the whole world can only ever see me as one thing. The haughty rich bastard of the Maddox family. Everybody seems to have their own ideas about me, but almost all of them are far from the truth. I don’t want the Maddox name or the throne that comes with it. And I refuse to accept that it’s my only choice in life. I’ve earned my own money through investments and the military, and I live a somewhat modest lifestyle. I still work for my father to appease him, but I’m working on building my own company. And Mrs. Caroline Maddox is none too pleased about it.
For a brief moment, I think that maybe they are all right about me. Maybe it’s a joke to think I could ever do anything else with my life. Maybe I shouldn’t bother showing up at all. I could just take the rest of the day off, get a nice bottle of whiskey and call Anya. Yes, Anya… always so eager to please. I could fuck her senseless for the rest of the day as long as I don’t have to listen to her talk. Maybe if I duct taped her mouth…. I wonder if she would go for that? Of course she would. Because she’s trying to get her claws into me. She will do anything I ask.
I really need to find someone new to fuck. Someone not so… boring. I need a challenge. Like that model from the gallery last week. What was her name? Brittany or Bethany… something like that.
As I lift my head to check the traffic once more, I’m hit by a flurry of dark hair, ripped jeans and a red jacket. I stumble back a step, momentarily knocked off balance, and all the paperwork in my hands flutters down around me.
“God dammit!” I growl. This is just what I need right now.
I cast an irritated glance at the petite figure on the ground in front of me. She’s scurrying to collect her own belongings, with no apparent concern for my own. She hasn’t even bothered to acknowledge me, or offer up an apology. I can barely see her face under the unruly tangles of long dark hair, and that only irritates me further. She’s panting hard, her fingers trembling from what seems like fear. For a moment, an unwelcome pang of sympathy hits me in the gut, but I don’t let it show. I’m already late, and I don’t have time for this bullshit.
I step closer, brushing out my now rumpled suit. Still, she refuses to look up or acknowledge me. So I clear my throat and tap my foot impatiently. That ought to get her fucking attention.
Nope, still nothing. I try to reign in the anger brewing inside of me as I stare at the haphazard figure on the ground. She is petite and short, in other words not my type at all. Still, my dick jumps to attention as I scan the curves of her slim figure. My dick doesn’t seem to be particularly picky today.
And yet, she seems content to just keep ignoring me. Does she even realize who I am? I can’t remember the last time someone was this rude to me. Even if people don’t like me, they always pretend to my face. It comes with the name. But not this chick.
I fight the unwelcome image of taking her over my knee right here in the street for pissing me off. Slapping the shit out of that sweet little ass of hers. I wonder what this rude girl would think of that….
I shake my head and try to shrug off the errant thought. The last thing I need is another Chandra Freestone on my hands.
Fuck. That. Shit.
“Would you mind giving me back my documents?” I bark.
Finally, my voice seems to elicit a response from her as her gaze meets mine for the first time. And she has the audacity to look angry at me. She’s actually scowling at me.
Normally, that kind of insolence would have sent me over the edge, especially after this morning’s events. But I’m distracted by the pair of eyes staring back at me. They are a dark amber color with flecks of light honey all around them. I’ve never seen anything like them before, and it’s unexpected. Her creamy white skin is flawless, contrasting starkly to her dark mahogany hair. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s clenching her jaw in annoyance.