Page 33 of Bossy Wicked Prince
“Rescheduled to Wednesday. The Terrace chef will be sending up catering.”
I resist the urge to preen a little when Nate actually looks impressed. The HR woman warned me about a thousand times that he’s impossible to please. Looks like I’m going to prove her wrong.
Then Nate’s eyes dip to my neck, and he scowls. Fuck—my collar must have slid down.
When I was volunteering on Saturday, Rupert came in for breakfast. I was thrilled to see him until Darren, another one of our residents, took a swing at him. I dove in between them to stop the fight before anyone could get hurt, and I happened to catch a blow to my neck.
Turns out, Darren mistakenly thought Rupert swiped some cash from his bag. We managed to get everything sorted out, and Darren apologized to me at least a dozen times. I’d all but forgotten about it until I got dressed this morning, and I had to pick a tie-neck blouse to hide the bruise.
I reach back up to adjust my collar, but it’s too late.
“Close the door,” Nate growls. His voice is so low, I can practically feel it scrape along my skin.
I nod, glancing back behind me at the occupied desks. I wonder if they’ll be able to hear if Nate yells at me…
An eerie silence settles once I shut the door. Nate strides toward me, and I flinch when he reaches for the tie neck of my blouse. He tugs it, undoing the bow and revealing the full bruise.
“What happened?” he demands.
I stare straight ahead, my eyes fixed on his tie. Today, it’s steel blue. “Nothing. It’s just a bruise.”
“A bruise you got fromsomeone.”
I sigh. “Two guys got in a fight at the shelter. I broke it up, and got a tiny bruise. That’s it.”
He slams his hand against the door beside me, making me jump.
“Are you insane?” he hisses. “What the fuck were you doing, jumping in between two grown men fighting?”
“It’s no big deal.”
His eyes blaze with fury. “They left amarkon you. It’s a big fucking deal.”
I cross my arms. He’s acting like I ended up in the hospital, not mildly bruised. I swear, the version of me in his head is a helpless little princess who can’t lift her own pencil.
“Fights almost never happen, and when they do, I can handle them. Besides, it’s my fault for convincing Rupert to come back to the shelter. He warned me he had a problem with someone there, but I talked him out of it. So I had to break the fight up. If one of them got hurt, or got in any trouble, it would have been my fault.”
“Yougot hurt!” He pushes back from the door, striding toward his desk like he can’t bear to look at me. “Doesn’t the shelter have any goddamn security?”
“We did a while back. But funding got low, and it was one of the first things to go. The shelter’s barely scraping by as it is.”
He’s silent for a long moment.
“I’ll make you a deal.”
I frown. “What do you mean, adeal?”
“If you let me implement safety measures at the shelter and let my driver take you home after any late shifts at the office or Terrace, then I’ll fund the shelter for the rest of the year myself.”
I gape at him. He can’t seriously be blackmailing me into taking a ride home. But how can I turn this down? With his funding, the shelter could funnel its other donations into theimprovements it seriously needs. Kitchen upgrades, additional beds, maybe even adding a small computer lab.
Most importantly, we don’t need to worry about it closing.
Just thinking about it makes me so relieved, my eyes burn with unshed tears. Thank god Nate still hasn’t turned around to see them. It wouldn’t earn any respect from a businessman like him to see me?—
Wait.
Nate’s a businessman, and businessmen love negotiation. I lift my chin.
