Filthy Love: A Billionaire Romantic Comedy (A Filthy Duet #2) - Matilda Martel Page 0,1

Can you get your head out of the clouds long enough to do your job for one goddamn hour?”

“An hour? Who is it? Since when do you send anyone important to me?” I run my fingers through my hair and once again reconsider his offer to sign over my portion of the company.

I think about it every day. It’s the first thing on my mind as soon as I wake up and it’s the thing that most keeps me up at night. Perhaps it’s best to enter early retirement. I hate this company. I hate media. This life, this work has never been a good fit for me. Dad knew what he was doing when he left Declan in charge.

“You are the Chief Marketing Officer. I didn’t want to give you that position. You do absolutely nothing to deserve it. I can’t give you anything too important because you’ll fuck it up and you know you will.” Declan throws a pen at me, but I catch it mid-air and throw it back.

“Just tell me who I’m interviewing so I can get the hell out of here. Next week, draw up the damn paperwork to get me out of this shit show. I’m blowing my life away in this building.” I snatch a piece of paper from his desk and grab a pen. “Give me this person’s name and tell me what I’m supposed to do. I don’t care enough to go through the motions of judging their character.”

He cocks his head and sighs. “You can’t leave yet. I need you here for the next three weeks.”

“No, you don’t. You just want to talk me out of it.” I shake my head and stand to leave. I’ve had enough of his big brother lectures.

“No, leave. I’m all for it. I’ll pack your desk and buy you a cake. This company doesn’t suit you. But I need you to stay around while I’m away. Ian will run things with Uncle Killian who flies in tonight. But they can’t sign shit. Only you can. You don’t have to work all day. Just make a daily appearance.” He stands and heads towards his window. Typical. He always stands by his window when he starts one of his lectures.

“You don’t fool me. I’m serious. I don’t want to be here anymore. And where the hell are you going? You never go anywhere.” I recline against the door and wait for his speech.

“I said, I’m glad you want out. But I need you to stay for three weeks because I’m getting married. I’ll be planning my wedding, moving my Ava into our place and then taking her on a honeymoon. I will require your presence in the office. After that, feel free to fuck off.” He pulls his phone out of his coat pocket and smiles to himself.

Jesus Christ. What a pitiful piece of work.

“Married? Are you out of your mind? You just met this girl.” I laugh and march closer to his desk. “How do you know she isn’t just marrying you for your money?”

“First and foremost, don’t you ever question my future wife’s character, or I’ll beat the shit out of you just like I did when we were kids.” He snaps back and charges forward.

“You’re four years older than me, dickhead. It was hardly a fair fight.” I meet him halfway and confront him chest first, a whole inch taller than his short ass.

“I’m confident in Ava’s affection. Especially, since frivolity annoys her, and I had to wrestle her to the ground to slide my ring on her finger. You should be so lucky to find someone half as guileless.” He points a finger into my chest, but I clasp his wrist and knock his arm away.

“Get your fucking finger out of my face, asshole. Marry. Don’t marry. I couldn’t care less. Fill a house with little bullies just like their father. But stop telling me what to do. I’ll stay the three weeks. As a favor. Then I’m gone. And you better not try to swindle me on my half of the company.” I spit my words and turn away. As I reach for the door, he calls out one more time.

“Her name is Isabella Hamilton.”

“Who? What?” I swing the door open and glare at him over my shoulder.

“Your interview, dipshit. Isabella Hamilton. She’s the intern you’re hiring. She’s young and competent. Just meet her and hand her off to Seth. He’s much more professional than you. I don’t want you offending