“First off,” Hunter bit out, “I don’t want to buy a house in Hicksville, Florida-”
“Ah, it’s actually Maryhale,” Ryan pointed out, but Hunter ignored him simply because he didn’t care.
“-and secondly, how am I supposed to run a company from a house?”
“You’ll have to hire an assistant,” Ryan explained in a tone that let Hunter know that the little shit clearly expected him to be in awe of his greatness.
“Fine,” Hunter said, waving dismissively for Ryan to leave, “go to Hooters. Make sure she’s blonde, has double D’s, and doesn’t talk much.”
When Ryan didn’t move to leave, Hunter narrowed his eyes on the little bastard that he should have beaten the shit out of when they were kids.
“What else?” Hunter demanded through clenched teeth, already knowing that he wasn’t going to like what Ryan had to tell him.
“The thing of it is, in order to get this deal for you, I had to negotiate a few things and-”
“Get to the fucking point!”
“Well, the court decided since having a live-in-”
“Live-in? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Hunter demanded, wondering just how badly Ryan had fucked-up this case for him. He couldn’t live with a woman. It was one of the many reasons why he would never get married. He simply couldn’t stand them. As far as he knew they were only good for sex and keeping him company at all the boring dinners that Ryan forced him to attend.
“-could be seen as a benefit, that the D.A.’s office should be allowed to choose the most qualified candidate whom they would trust to make sure that you didn’t abuse the situation.”
Hunter stared at him for a moment.
Finally, he said, “Please tell me that you’re kidding.”
“I’m afraid not, and before you tell me that you’re just going to fire her, I should probably tell you that if you do that then you’ll have to finish your sentence in jail.”
“What if she quits?” he asked slowly, already running ideas through his head on how to get rid of some unwanted pain in the ass.
“Then you go to jail.”
“That’s bullshit!”
Ryan simply shrugged. “That’s the deal.”
“So, I’m going to be stuck with someone who can hold jail over my head?”
“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” Ryan demanded, actually having the balls to sound offended.
“At the moment? Yes.”
“I made it a condition that she didn’t know.”
Hunter shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe you fucked me over like this.”
“Hold that thought,” Ryan said, taking another step back.
“What else?” Hunter demanded through clenched teeth.
“You also have to see an anger management therapist while you’re under house arrest,” Ryan added when he felt that there was enough space between him and the bars.
For a moment, Hunter could only stare at the man he planned on killing with his bare hands. Then finally, he decided to set him straight.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? I don’t have a fucking anger management problem!”
Chapter 1
February 17th.
“This can’t be right,” Kylie murmured as she pulled to a stop in front of the large two-story brick house that looked like it belonged in an Animal House movie instead of the affluent neighborhood that it was smack dab in the middle of.
Frowning, she looked back down at the address written on the thick yellow envelope that the Prosecutor’s office had sent over three hours ago and frowned. The address matched, but this couldn’t be the right house. There was no way that this was Hunter O’Mallery’s, C.E.O of Shadow Security, house.
This had to be a mistake, Kylie realized just as the convertible filled with scantily clad women behind her laid on the horn, demanding that she get out of the way. No, this definitely wasn’t the right house, she thought, deciding that perhaps she was on the wrong street. She drove to the end of the street and frowned when she saw that it was, in fact, the right street.
Deciding that they gave her the wrong address, she looked for a parking spot and after a few minutes she found one, the only one left, which happened to be a half-mile from the party house. Once she was parked, she called the Prosecutor’s office. After ten minutes of being put on hold, and five minutes of being forwarded to a half-dozen offices, she discovered that the address was indeed correct.
As much as she wished that she could put this off, she couldn’t. She had a job to do, one that would guarantee her future. If everything went according to plan,