The Promise (Neighbor from Hell #10)

“And what’s that?”

“Maybe the fact that I live out of hotels and don’t have a fucking house? Or I don’t know, maybe the fact that I run a fucking company has something to do with it? How the hell do you expect me to run a company that employs twenty thousand people around the world on house arrest?” he demanded, not liking the smug smile on his friend’s face.

“We already came to a solution for both problems. The first is that you’re required to buy a house in this county,” Ryan explained. “And two, you’ll work from home.”

“First off,” Hunter bit out, “I don’t want to buy a house in Hicksville, Florida-”

“Ah, it’s actually Maryhale,” Ryan pointed out, but Hunter ignored him simply because he didn’t care.

“-and secondly, how am I supposed to run a company from a house?”

“You’ll have to hire an assistant,” Ryan explained in a tone that let Hunter know that the little shit clearly expected him to be in awe of his greatness.

“Fine,” Hunter said, waving dismissively for Ryan to leave, “go to Hooters. Make sure she’s blonde, has double D’s, and doesn’t talk much.”

When Ryan didn’t move to leave, Hunter narrowed his eyes on the little bastard that he should have beaten the shit out of when they were kids.

“What else?” Hunter demanded through clenched teeth, already knowing that he wasn’t going to like what his oldest friend had to tell him.

“The thing of it is, in order to get this deal for you, I had to negotiate a few things and-”

“Get to the fucking point!”

“Well, the court decided since having a live-in-”

“Live-in? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Hunter demanded, wondering just how badly the man had fucked up this case for him. He couldn’t live with a woman. It was one of the many reasons why he would never get married. He simply couldn’t stand them. As far as he knew they were only good for sex and keeping him company at all the boring dinners that Ryan forced him to attend.

“-could be seen as a benefit that the prosecution should be allowed to choose the most qualified candidate, whom they would trust to make sure that you didn’t abuse the situation.”

Hunter stared at him for a moment.

Finally, he said, “Please tell me that you’re kidding.”

“I’m afraid not, and before you tell me that you’re just going to fire her, I should probably tell you that if you fire her, then you’ll have to finish your sentence in jail.”

“What if she quits?” he asked slowly, already running ideas through his head on how to get rid of some unwanted pain in the ass.

“Then you go to jail.”

“That’s bullshit!” he roared.

Ryan simply shrugged. “That’s the deal.”

“So, I’m going to be stuck with someone who can hold jail over my head?”

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” Ryan demanded, actually having the balls to sound offended.

“At the moment? Yes.”

“I made it a condition that she didn’t know.”

Hunter shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe you fucked me over like this.”

“Hold that thought,” Ryan said, taking another step back.

“What?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“You also have to see an anger management therapist while you’re under house arrest,” Ryan added when he felt that there was enough space between him and the bars.

For a moment, he could only stare at the man he planned on killing with his bare hands. Then finally, he decided to set the man straight.

“Are you fucking crazy? I don’t have a fucking anger management problem!”





Chapter 1


April 23rd.

“This can’t be right,” Kylie murmured as she pulled to a stop in front of the large two-story brick house that looked like it belonged in an Animal House movie instead of the affluent neighborhood that it was smack dab in the middle of.

Frowning, she looked back down at the address written on the thick yellow envelope that the Prosecutor’s office had sent over three hours ago and frowned. The address matched, but this couldn’t be the right house. There was no way that this was Hunter O’Malley’s, C.E.O of O’Malley Enterprises, house.

This had to be a mistake, she realized just as the convertible filled with scantily clad women behind her laid on the horn, demanding that she get out of the way. No, this definitely wasn’t the house, she mused, deciding that perhaps she was on the wrong street. She drove to the end of the street and frowned when she saw that it was, in fact, the right street.

Deciding that they’d sent the wrong address, she looked for a parking spot and after a few minutes found one, the only one left, which happened to be a half-mile from the party house. Once she was parked, she called the prosecutor’s office. After ten minutes of being put on hold, and five minutes of being forwarded to a half-dozen offices, she discovered that the address was indeed correct.

As much as she wished that she could put this off, she couldn’t. She had a job to do, one that would guarantee her future. If everything went according to plan, she would finally have her dream. For that alone she could handle absolutely anything, she reminded herself as she stepped out of her car. After a slight pause, she decided to come back for her bags later.

This really was a very nice neighborhood, Kylie mused as she walked down the unmarred cement sidewalk and admired the perfectly manicured lawns and intricate designs of the metal gates that surrounded the elaborate homes that lined both sides of the street. It was definitely a step up from the small studio apartment that she’d been renting for the past two years.

Then again, a cardboard box in a Wal-Mart parking lot would have been a step up from that apartment and probably a lot safer. At least she wouldn’t have to shell out a hundred bucks of her own money to have new locks placed on her door and window. She also probably wouldn’t have to worry about coming home and finding some junky searching through her stuff either. Definitely not a bad place to spend a year, she thought with a smile as she looked at the houses that looked more like mansions.

As she continued the long walk towards what could only be described as an out of control frat party, she mentally berated herself for not doing a little research on her new employer. She only knew a few basic details about Mr. Hunter O’Malley and that was only because she’d taken thirty seconds out of her busy morning to skim the details on the face sheet attached to the thick file that she’d received while she’d admittedly been in a rush to follow the nice police officer’s orders and get the hell out of her apartment before things got ugly.

Okay, uglier.

Normally, she liked to know everything there was to know about an employer, company and potential position before she agreed to take a job, but she hadn’t been given the opportunity to conduct any research before she’d accepted this position. The only thing that she knew about this job was that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity with great pay and benefits and that it was a live-in position that required a yearlong commitment.

R.L. Mathewson's books