Page 26 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
“I’ll suggest you work out something with Mr. Callahan if there’s an issue.”
“Thanks Richard, you’ve been really helpful.”
“My pleasure,” he replies, either deliberately ignoring the sarcasm or missing it.
I hang up with a frustrated sigh, tossing my phone onto the couch and running a hand through my hair.
Liam’s words echo in my mind: ‘Bad luck’.
“Yeah,” I mutter under my breath, collapsing onto the couch. “Tell me about it.”
Chapter eight
Liam
Ipace the room, the hardwood floors groaning under my steps. My thoughts churn like a storm, and I cannot quiet them. Having to collaborate with her is one thing, but this? This is something else entirely. Now she is here, in my space. Of all people, of all places - she is living right next to me. What kind of cosmic joke is this?
Her scent still lingers in my senses after brushing past me, some mix of vanilla and something sweeter. It clings to the edges of my memory, refuses to let go.
I clench my fists; my nails dig into my palms. My jaw tightens, muscles straining with the effort to keep my composure. I am furious. A cold, simmering fury that settles deep in my chest. Right now, I do not know who I’m angrier at - her, for always getting under my skin, or myself, for allowing it. For engaging with her. For noticing her.
Damn her for the way her eyes flashed when she snapped back at me, that spark of defiance that has always made my blood boil. And that smirk that infuriating, self-assured curl of her lips that says she knows exactly how to provoke me. It makes mewant to wipe it off her face, to shatter the illusion that she has any control here. But that is the problem, isn’t it? She does have control. She still affects me and still pushes buttons I thought were dead and buried.
I stop pacing, planting my feet as if that will anchor my thoughts. My pulse pounds in my ears, a steady, maddening rhythm. I take a slow and measured breath through my nose, but it does not help. The rage sits there, cold, and unyielding.
This is not just about proximity. This is about intrusion. Hazel McKee is a thorn in my side, a splinter lodged too deep to remove without pain. And now she has embedded herself in my life again, in my estate, my refuge.
The universe must be laughing at me.
I run my hand through my hair, exhaling a breath that tastes like frustration. This situation is unacceptable. She is unacceptable. There has to be a way out of this.
I grab my phone off the counter and dial Richard’s number. He picks up almost immediately as if he has been expecting it.
“Good evening, Mr. Callahan,” he says, sounding far too calm for my liking.
“Don’t ‘good evening’ me,” I snap, pacing to the window, staring out at the pathway that leads to the guest house. “Explain. Now.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to clarify what you want me to explain,” he replies smoothly.
“Do not joke with me, Richard. I am not in the mood.” My hand tightens around the phone. “Why is Hazel McKee living in the guest house next to mine?”
There is a pause, and I can practically hear him choosing his words. “I did inform you that the guest property was rented out this month.”
“You didn’t tell me it was her,” I ground out. My jaw aches from how hard I am clenching it.
“Well, Mr. Callahan, if you recall, you gave me full autonomy over the guest house. You have never made it a policy to review tenant names personally. Your exact words were, and I quote, ‘I don’t care who stays there as long as they aren’t in my way and respect the estate.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Well, that policy just changed,” I grind out, taking a sip of bourbon that burns all the way down. “You should have flagged it. You should have called me the second you saw her name.”
“I wasn’t aware Miss McKee was a concern,” Richard replies, maddeningly even. “She meets all the criteria: professional, respectful, no history of issues. There was no reason to believe that you would object.”
“There is now.” My voice drops to a growl. “Fix. It. Refund her, relocate her - I do not care how you do it. Just get her out.”
Richard inhales slowly, the kind of breath that says he is bracing for the worst. “I would love to, but that is not possible. The lease is signed, the deposit is non-refundable. Even if we gave her double what she paid - and let's be honest, you would probably hand her the money tomorrow in this state - there is nowhere else for her to go. Every other unit is occupied. Short of dragging her out and tossing her bags on the street, there are no options.”
My hand flexes around the glass. “That is not my problem. I just want her gone.”
He sighs, deliberate and heavy. “Liam, it is six months. Just six. I do not know what is going on between you two, but Miss McKee has been nothing but respectful. There is no reason to think she’ll disrupt your privacy.”
