Hate Notes
: Chapter 6

Blinking my eyes wasn’t working. She was still here. I wasn’t seeing things.

It was really her.

In my place of business.

That platinum-blonde hair.

Those icy-blue eyes.

Nordic Barbie from the other day—Charlotte Darling—was flat on her ass before me, looking scared, like she’d seen a ghost. I stood, extended my hand, and helped her up.

If I scare her so much, why does she continue to stalk me?

There wasn’t much time to think before the words exited my mouth. “Are you taking your show on the road, Miss Darling? I don’t recall buying tickets to Crazytown. What are you doing here?”

“I . . . ugh . . .” She shook her head as if coming out of a daze and placed her hand on her chest. “Reed . . . Eastwood. What are you doing here?”

What kind of a game is she playing?

“You’re asking me what I am doing at my own company? Who let you into my offices?”

Seeming flustered, she looked down and adjusted her skirt. “I work here.”

She what?

My blood was pumping.

Even though I’d let her come to that penthouse appointment to berate her for playing games and wasting my time, afterward I’d regretted acting so harshly. But she was totally justifying how I’d acted.

“You know, I actually felt a little sorry for you when you stormed out of the Millennium upset the other day. But your coming here is out of line. How did you get through security?”

My mention of the S word triggered something in her. The same woman who had been cowering a few seconds ago straightened her body and glared at me. I should’ve remembered from last time that the one sure way to get her to snap was to mention security.

Leaning in, she raised her voice. “Stop threatening to call security on me. Did you not hear me say that I work here?”

The smell of something sweet on her breath made me lose my train of thought for a brief moment. Glazed doughnut, maybe. I was quickly snapped out of that momentary loss of focus when she closed her eyes and began moving her fingers frantically as if she were . . . typing. Actually, that’s exactly what she was doing—typing something in the air.

I had to ask. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

She continued the motion as she spoke. “I’m typing all the things I really want to say to you, to get it all out without actually having to say the words. Trust me, this is what’s best for both of us.” Her fingers kept moving.

I couldn’t help but laugh under my breath. “You’d rather look like a complete idiot than say what’s on your mind?”

She finally stopped moving her fingers. “Yes.”

“Did you remember to hit ‘Send’?” I mocked.

Charlotte didn’t replace my sarcasm funny.

“Telling you what I was thinking would have been unprofessional. I don’t want to risk losing my job on the very first day.”

“I see you learned a lot about professionalism during your time at Deez Nuts.”

“Screw you.”

“Whoa. Someone needs a ‘Backspace’ key.”

Jesus. Now I was actually enjoying messing with her—engaging the crazy. I needed to remind myself that she was trespassing.

“Tell me again how you got in here, Miss Darling? Because you sure as hell don’t work here. This is my company. I can assure you I would’ve noticed if I’d hired you.”

My grandmother appeared and interrupted, “Technically, it’s my company.” She turned to Charlotte. “I apologize for my grandson’s behavior.”

“Grandson?” Charlotte pointed her index finger while looking back and forth between my grandmother and me. “He . . . is your grandson? That’s . . . that’s the guy I told you about in the bathroom that day—the pretentious asshole Realtor!”

“I’m sorry, Charlotte. Apparently I hadn’t put two and two together.” Despite her words, my grandmother didn’t seem very surprised at all. “I would have never imagined that the condescending prick you described was Reed.”

“Bathroom? What are you talking about?” I asked.

Charlotte began to explain, “When I left you at Millennium Tower, I went to use the restroom in the lobby. That was where I ran into Iris. I obviously had no idea she was your grandmother. She saw that I was upset. I told her everything that had happened with you during the showing. We stayed there a bit and talked—bonded—and that’s when she offered me the personal-assistant position here.”

Oh, hell no.

Hell. No. This woman was certifiable. There was no way she was going to have access to my personal dealings.

“Grandmother, can we speak in my office for a moment, please?”

“Of course.” She smiled before looking over at Charlotte, who had bent down to pick up the pieces of the broken vase. “Why don’t you head back to your office, Charlotte, and get acclimated to the company database. I’ve asked Stan from IT to meet you in your office if you have any questions. I’m sorry that the beautiful vase you made for me broke. You don’t have to clean it up. I can get someone to do that.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got most of it. We may need someone to vacuum the shards, though.” She stood up and dumped the broken pieces into a nearby trash can before turning to me with glaring eyes. “Maybe Stan can work on getting a sensitivity chip installed into your grandson. He seems to be missing one.”

I snapped my fingers. “They must have forgotten to put it back in when they installed my bullshit detector.”

I really need to stop enjoying this.

Charlotte’s eyes lingered on my stern gaze before she turned away from me. A strange feeling bubbled in my chest as I watched her blonde locks moving back and forth while she walked away. I knew it was guilt creeping in. My reaction to her was the only sensible one, given her craziness, but somehow, I felt like a total asshole now.

My grandmother quietly followed me into my office.

I shut the door behind us. “You know your day is going well when your own grandmother calls you a prick.”

“Well, you certainly act like one sometimes.” She seemed amused by my anger. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Sure, if you consider expressive eyes, luscious lips, and a body like a 1950s pin-up “pretty.” More like kryptonite.

Charlotte’s physical beauty was undeniable. But there was absolutely no way I was going to acknowledge it. “Crazy” eclipses beauty.

I grimaced. “Grandmother . . . what are you trying to pull here?”

“She’ll be a great addition to our staff.”

Pointing back toward the door, I yelled, “That woman? That woman has no experience. Not to mention, she’s crazy and a known liar. You should’ve seen the ridiculous things she put on her application to see that penthouse.”

She grinned mockingly. “Dog surfing, I know.”

“You know about that, and you hired her anyway?” I started to pace, my blood pressure rising. “I’m sorry, but you need your head examined. How can you be okay with having her handle some of our most sensitive and personal business?”

My grandmother took a seat on the sofa across from my desk, then said, “She didn’t know what she was doing when she filled out that application—didn’t even remember doing it. It was a drunken lapse in sanity. We’ve all had nights like that. At least, I have. I’m not going to tell you everything we discussed because it’s private, but there was a very good reason for her actions. I saw something in her that reminded me of myself. I think she has a determined spirit, and that’s the type of vibrant energy we need here.”

Is she kidding?

Vibrant.

To me, Charlotte was like blinding sunlight shining into your face after a hangover. Vibrant, maybe—but most unwelcome.

My grandmother was a kind and empathetic person who saw the good in people. I respected that but had to wonder if she was being manipulated here.

“She’s a liar,” I stressed again.

“She lied . . . but she’s not a habitual liar. There’s a difference. She made a mistake. Charlotte opened up to me—a complete stranger. She didn’t have to do that. She’s one of the most honest people I’ve ever met.”

Crossing my arms, I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t work with her.”

“Her employment status isn’t up for debate, Reed. You have plenty of money to hire your own personal assistant if you don’t want to use the shared one, but I’m not firing her.”

“She’s going to have access to all of my personal information. Shouldn’t I have had a say in this?”

“Why? Do you have something to hide?”

“No, but—”

“You know what I think?”

“What?” I huffed.

“I haven’t seen you this passionate about anything in a long time. Actually, not since the Christmas concert at Carnegie Hall.”

I cringed. “Can you please not remind me of that?”

She loved bringing up my short stint in a boys’ choir as a kid. I used to get really into the gleeful songs until I started to mature and began to see choir as a dorky hobby. I dropped out, and my grandmother continued to harp on the fact that I’d missed my calling.

“Good or bad, that girl has lit a fire inside of you,” she said.

Glancing out the window at the traffic below, I refused to acknowledge any truth to that statement as heat permeated my skin. “Don’t be ridiculous . . .”

My grandmother had touched a nerve. I knew deep down she was right. Charlotte had triggered something in me. It manifested itself as anger on the outside. But on the inside, it felt like this indescribable excitement. Yes, she had pissed me off for wasting my time during the showing that day. But by the time she’d lashed out at me and stormed out of the bedroom, she’d made an impression on me that I couldn’t quite explain. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her that entire night. I’d worried that I’d been too rough on her, that I’d inadvertently caused some kind of mental breakdown. I imagined her stumbling all over Manhattan with runny mascara, tripping over her own feet in those freaking heels. Eventually, I’d stopped thinking about it and hadn’t thought about her again until she’d literally bumped into me moments ago. And just like that, all that bizarre energy rose to the surface again, once again expressing itself as anger toward her. But why? Why did I even care enough to let her get to me?

My grandmother interrupted my train of thought. “I know that what happened with Allison really killed your spirit. But it’s time to move on.”

The mention of Allison made my stomach ache. I wished my grandmother hadn’t brought her into this.

She continued, “You need a change of scenery. Since you’re not going anywhere, I brought it to you by hiring Charlotte. I would rather see you out there bickering with her than alone in your office.”

“You can’t bicker with someone whose mode of communication is to silently air-type her side of the argument.”

“What?”

“Christ, you didn’t see her doing that?” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “She said she didn’t want to tell me what she was really thinking for fear of losing her job, so she pretended to be typing in the air like a loon to get it out of her system. This is the whack job you hired.”

My grandmother bent her head back in laughter. “That’s a great idea, actually. Some politicians should take lessons from her. We could all stand to learn from thinking before we speak, even if it means typing it instead of saying it. That’s what I mean about her. She’s unique.”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s unique, alright.”

Her expression softened as she placed her hand on my shoulder. “Can you do me a favor and at least try to make her feel welcome?”

“Doesn’t sound like I have a choice.” I sighed in exasperation.

“I’ll take that as a yes. You can practice in the Hamptons tomorrow. She’s going to be helping you at the Bridgehampton estate. Lorena is out all week. As we’ve done in the past, the company PA fills in when Lorena can’t be there to assist during showings.”

Great. An entire day with her.

She got up and headed toward the door before turning around one final time. “Charlotte knows a thing or two about a broken heart. You have more in common with her than you think.”

It irked me whenever my grandmother alluded to my breakup with Allison. Not only did it have no place in this discussion, but it also forced me to have to think about things I was trying to forget. I’d really been making an effort to move on from the pain that went along with the end of that relationship.

I stood staring out the window for the better part of the next half hour, twiddling my thumbs and trying to make sense of the fact that Charlotte now worked here. Her ending up here was definitely a bizarre coincidence. There was just no way we were going to be able to work together every day without constantly butting heads.

I decided to head down to her office and set some ground rules—outline what my expectations were for the time she’d be working under me tomorrow.

Under me.

I quickly shook away the visual of her petite body beneath me. That was the funny thing about having disdain toward someone who was physically attractive. It was like a battle between mind and body that under normal circumstances the body would be destined to win.

But these weren’t normal circumstances. Charlotte Darling was far from normal, and I needed to keep my guard up.

Readying to give her a piece of my mind, I stomped down the hall and took a deep breath before opening the door to her office without knocking.

The sight of my brother, Max, with his feet up on the couch threw me for a loop. Although it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he rushed to make an impression on the attractive new assistant. This was typical Max.

“Can I help you, Mr. Eastwood?” she asked coldly.

Max smirked. “Charlotte, I know you two have already met, but let me formally introduce you to my older brother, otherwise known as our evil overlord.”

Great.

Manwhore Ken had wasted no time moving in on Nordic Barbie.