Strings Attached

CHAPTER TWO

Shit! For the first time in my life, I was going to be late for work. Good thing I was the boss. The thumping headache didn't help my case either and I had barely dragged myself to the bathroom, heading straight towards the shower.

After getting dressed, I hurried downstairs to get my shot of strong, black coffee to keep me through this awful day. As usual, Teresa was already in the dining room, waiting with my coffee and the latest issue of The Guardian. There was something off about that girl. Her hands always slightly shook when she would hand me the coffee as if my presence made her nervous and today was no exception. Even weirder, was her strange habit to make small talk although it was clear she was sort of intimidated by me.

As I started going through the newspaper, I could tell that she was trying to come up with something to say. I wasn't a fool and I knew damn well what all of this was about, but I had no intention to spend time trying to deal with her stupid little crush. These morning conversations were starting to get on my nerves and I would have to talk to Anne to set this girl straight.

"You must have had a rough night, Sir," she said in a curious voice.

"Trust me, you don't want to know." And I wouldn't tell you anyway, so stop butting your nose in my business.

While I replied, my eyes never left the newspaper. I wanted peace and quiet. I wanted her out.

"Can... Can I do anything else for you?" she continued nagging me with the undertone of hope ringing from her voice.

Yes! You could fucking leave!

"No, thank you," I tried to reply as nicely as possible, but today I was in a very, very bad mood.

She continued her nervous fidgeting, but the blunt way in which I ignored her presence sent a clear message that I wasn't interested in prolonging the conversation.

"I will leave you alone then," she muttered. "Have a nice day, Sir!"

I didn't even bother to reply or look her way as she left. Folding the newspaper, I downed the last sip of my coffee and left the house in a hurry.

The bright sun hurt my eyes as I walked to the garage and I cursed at myself once again for allowing Jared to drag me to that stupid club. He was set on helping me recover from my cancelled engagement, but he didn't realize that I had bigger problems to worry about and that trying to get me drunk and hook me up with some bimbo was the last thing I needed.

The sight of my imposing car collection managed to distract me for a moment and I opted for a black Porsche convertible, hoping that the fresh air would ease the persistent headache which seemed to get worse by the moment. I pulled a pair of sunglasses from the compartment and started the car. The engine roared into life and I sped off onto the road, determined to get to The Goliath as soon as possible.

If there was one thing that annoyed the hell out of me, it was the New York traffic. I always preferred to leave the house as early as possible to avoid the morning rush hour, but today I was stuck in the middle of a huge traffic jam and there was nothing I could do but wait and drive at a snail's pace. At times, I would glance towards the pedestrians and got even more agitated when I saw they were moving faster than the cars. This day was just getting better and better! Patience wasn't one of my virtues and it was a well-known fact that I hated wasting time on anything that wasn't productive or served at least some meager purpose. Needless to say, this situation was fucking torture.

My father would have taunted me with the fact that I had refused to have a driver, but I was way too much of a control freak to allow someone to drive me around unless it was absolutely necessary. Besides, driving was the one thing that helped me relax and let out some of the steam, that is—when I was able to actually step on the gas pedal and move on the road.