Page 86 of Xander
I couldn’t believe this.
There it was, in my email.
My start date, the pay, everything.
Realizing I only had a week to get there and get settled, I realized something: other than this apartment and my aunt and uncle, nothing was holding me here.
I could rent out my apartment and see them on the holidays.
Xander had proved time and time again that I didn’t matter enough to him for me to stay.
So, with that thought, I got dressed, headed into town, and bought boxes.
Maybe one of the prospects that were due to be voted in wanted to rent my place fully furnished. It would help them and help me.
With that thought, I turned up my music and started packing my apartment.
Four hours later, I stood back in amazement. Holy shit.
Other than a few outfits I would need for the next two or three days, I was ready to go.
I didn’t have to look for an apartment because I was being placed in one courtesy of the company.
That was killer.
All I needed to do was get things wrapped up here and arrange to have my stuff shipped to me.
With that, I called the representative on the email and ironed out all the details. Getting my start time, where my office was located, my badge would be delivered to my new apartment next weekend, on Saturday.
An hour later, I was dressed and headed to the clubhouse for fight night.
I needed to talk to the prospects, to see which one wanted to rent my place, and I needed to talk to my Aunt and Uncle, informing them of my move.
I parked my car out in the field because getting a parking spot near the clubhouse was impossible due to all the bikes that were parked there.
There had to be at least two hundred bikes. No freaking joke.
Walking through them, I kept my head held high, my chin raised as I received a few catcalls and whistles.
I ignored what was going on around me as I wove in and out of the bikers and the women who had come with them.
That was until a man stepped in front of me and eyed my body.
He wasn’t bad looking either.
He had dark hair, dark brows, and a killer beard. Full lips. Blue eyes.
“Honey, I don’t think you should be talking to him,” Agatha said as she sidled up next to me, offering the man a smile.
I looked at her and lifted a brow, “Why not?”
“Because Xander is going to be pissed. You know this. That man is a possessive neanderthal. Do you really want his death on your hands?” Agatha asked.
“I’m not Xander’s ole lady. Everyone knows it. So, what I do is none of his business.”
Just then, I noticed that Aunt Tempie was at my back, as she too said, “Sweetie, I know I was wrong where Xander is concerned, but she’s right. He’s already looking over here. And anyone with half a brain can see he’s struggling.
“I don’t care, Aunt Tempie. He made his choices perfectly clear when we talked last week. He won’t do a thing. Besides, I need to talk to you and Uncle Merlin.”
