Rushed (Hate at First Flight #1) ✔️

18. Better Than Any Brit

Scene Eight was a scene where Ashleigh had had enough of Ethan Clarke and decided to give him a piece of her mind.

"Here you go," Dylan said, in character. Ethan Clarke was currently talking.

He was leaning against his desk, wearing a business suit. The scene was taking place in Clarke Industries, where Ethan Clarke was a CEO at.

He held out a piece of paper towards me.

"Wh-What is that?" I asked, making sure I appeared as helpless as Ashleigh was supposed to feel in this scene.

"A check," he replied curtly. "For half a million."

I widened my eyes profusely. Ashleigh was supposed to look beyond shocked here. "Why are you giving me a check for half a million?"

How can she be so dense to why he was giving her money?

"Half a million to disappear seems like a good trade, don't you think, Ms Bishop?" Ethan stood up straight.

Even though he was a cocky pompous brat, there was no denying the fact that Dylan Rush filled out an Armani suit to perfection. It accentuated his built and hugged every fiber of his body. I wouldn't be surprised if the suit was tailor made specifically for him.

Ethan Clarke walked around his desk and stopped in front of me. He leaned down a bit, his six feet frame towering over me effortlessly. Then he slipped the check into my hand. "Take this and as soon as you walk out of this building, never associate yourself again to the Clarke name." He leaned back again.

"B-but-" Ashleigh looked down at the check in her hands. $500,000.00 was written there in Ethan Clarke's elegant penmanship. He even wrote her name elegantly enough.

"You may leave, now Ms Bishop," Ethan's deep voice filled the room. "I trust this is forever goodbye." He turned to the glass window and stared out into the bustling life happening below him.

Ashleigh Bishop stared at the towering figure that had simply waved her off as if she was a useless distraction.

She had had enough! Enough of people using her, of people thinking less of her and of people treating her like she was an agonizing waste of space.

Even him! He wasn't her employer. He was her employer's childish son, who had everything against her since he first met her.

Without even thinking twice of it, she tore the check straight through the middle.

The sound of it echoed in the huge office.

Ethan Clarke turned slowly. "What are you doing?" His voice had a dangerous tone to it.
For a split second she regretted doing that. But then she assured herself if she didn't he would have taken that as an affirmation to his suspicions.

"I don't need that. I have a job that would provide for me adequately enough Mr Clarke. But thank you for your concern over my welfare," the words slipped put of Ashleigh's lips like cold on a hypothermic person.

"Who do you think you are!" Ethan Clarke took powerful strides and was in front of her in two seconds flat.

"Your parents' maid, sir. Now, if you can excuse me, I have a house to dust!" Ashleigh Bishop turned around and released a sigh in relief.

But it was short lived because instantly a large, firm hand was wrapped around her arm. "You'll leave when I say so, Ms Bishop," his tone was one too not be meddled with.

Ashleigh tugged her arm out of his arm, but with no success. His hand was unwilling to unleash her.

Heat rushed through her at the feel of his bare skin on hers. She was insane enough to have worn a short sleeved dress that reached past her knees, when she came to meet Mr Clarke.

His eyes darkened a morsel as if he only then realized their situation. He released her but took a step forward.

Ashleigh leaned back to give them not space.

"Leave before I do something I regret," his guttural words made Ashleigh want to hide from his sight.

He turned around and she took that chance to run out of his office.

"And Cut!" The director's voice echoed in the studio. "That's the one! That's the one, everybody!" He exclaimed with joy. "Great tension guys!"

I offered him a hesitant smile.

"We'll take a hour break before we go into Scene 6, okay?" He continued.

Everyone released a sigh in relief. Finally, we can eat!

I started for the catering table. Even I could use something right now, even if it was a muesli bar.

But I didn't make it, to the catering table that is.

A hand had wrapped itself around my arm and had proceeded to pull me in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" I protested. I need my muesli bar! "What the hell are you doing?" I screamed as I took a look at my kidnapper.

Sir Jerks-A-Lot of course.

"Stop making a scene," he snapped.

"Stop making a scene? Are you serious? You're the one making a scene by dragging me out!" I tried to pull my hand out of his grip but he had a strong grip just like Ethan Clarke.

"Just shut up and cooperate!"

"So you can drag me out and have your way with me, thanks but no thanks!"

He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "That will never happen, Hunt. Now, shut up and follow me!" He then removed his hand from around mine.

I should run, now!

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, curious.

"Out," he replied simply.

"Where?"

"First to lunch. I'm hungry enough to eat a horse. Then shopping."

I made a face at the horse comment. "Shopping? For what?"

"A new phone," he answered. "I owe you remember? And I need mine back."

"Why do you need it back? You've got nine others."

"I'm on Level 201. I can do better than any Brit," he said so low I thought I'd misheard him.

"What?" I asked again.

"I said that that one's my favorite one, Hunt. Now hurry up or I'll leave you behind." And with that he turned around and walked off.

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