really comprehend what I was hearing. And I certainly couldn’t voice how idiotic he sounded to me. “You really have no faith in people. Where I’m from, people give the benefit of the doubt.”
“You obviously haven’t been in New York very long,” he huffed. “Screw the dog. You’ll understand one day why I say that.”
“No!” I shouted, not caring how offended he got. “I won’t. How could you even say ‘screw the dog’! Look at the poor little thing.”
I was appalled that neither he nor Fredrick were torn up about it.
Tears started to well up in my eyes just looking at it. The closer I got, the more I realized how truly pitiful it looked. It looked like it hadn’t eaten in days, lash marks were all over it, with caked on dried blood—and from the looks of it, he barely had the strength to even stand.
He watched people as they walked by, and as soon as each and every person walked past, his head fell to the ground—and this happened time and time again, as I watched him while we were stopped in traffic.
“He’s just a dog, Zoe.”
“And we’re just people.”
And I could honestly not even call him that if he didn’t care about a poor, defenseless animal.
Chapter 12
I t was strange, really, how much his penthouse seemed to beckon me, as if it were my home, too. I sighed; it certainly felt that way as of late. But I had to remind myself as I looked in all directions as I stood in the foyer, that a home as extravagant as his, would never be something that I could obtain.
I sat my purse down on the large oak table in the entry way and tucked my trusty tablet beneath my arms once again. As I was taking off my shoes, Derek shoved past me with a huff and stomped down the hardwood floored hallway.
“Hurry your ass up, you useless girl!” he hollered out to me from over his shoulder. “I mean, will you?!”
I didn’t care though. Honestly, I was sick of hearing him yell and scream and throw tantrum after tantrum, but I was beginning to get used to it. Especially when I hopped out of our traffic-stuck car and held the poor dog until Polly could pick him up for me.
Boy, did I hear him throw a tantrum then.
It was comical though.
I honestly didn’t care. If I was fired for saving a dog, then so be it. I would happily pack up my desks and head out the door.
A compassionate boss was sounding better and better by the minute, to be honest.
I almost laughed. My dream the night before was seriously even more ridiculous after the day I just had with that horrible man. Any woman that found something in Derek Sholts was a woman who needed to have her head examined.
“You put us way behind schedule!” he yelled back to me, still stomping his way through his apartment towards the kitchen. “All because of that damn mangy mutt you wanted to save.”
I smirked. And just as I began musing about what sort of horrible woman would find something in Derek Sholts, a drop-dead gorgeous, model-esque blonde, wearing a tight black dress came strutting out of the kitchen like the hallway was a fucking runway.
She smiled as Derek walked closer to her, but before he reached her, her head snapped up to glance over his shoulder, to glance at me.
“Hello there.” She spoke to me as if I was some sort of intruder in her home, and she had no idea who I was or why I was there. But I didn’t care. In fact, I almost laughed in response. I was pretty sure that I had been in that house far more times than she had been.
“I’m, Derek’s girlfriend ,” she said rather snootily, as if I gave a damn. “Traci.”
She walked a couple of long-legged steps before reaching her hand out to me, in a downward fashion, as if I was supposed to kiss the back of it or something.
I did wonder, though, where the hell this woman had been for the past couple months if he had a girlfriend—and why he continued to hit on me if he had a girlfriend.
I looked at her hand, curiously for a moment, and realized that I was probably
“You obviously haven’t been in New York very long,” he huffed. “Screw the dog. You’ll understand one day why I say that.”
“No!” I shouted, not caring how offended he got. “I won’t. How could you even say ‘screw the dog’! Look at the poor little thing.”
I was appalled that neither he nor Fredrick were torn up about it.
Tears started to well up in my eyes just looking at it. The closer I got, the more I realized how truly pitiful it looked. It looked like it hadn’t eaten in days, lash marks were all over it, with caked on dried blood—and from the looks of it, he barely had the strength to even stand.
He watched people as they walked by, and as soon as each and every person walked past, his head fell to the ground—and this happened time and time again, as I watched him while we were stopped in traffic.
“He’s just a dog, Zoe.”
“And we’re just people.”
And I could honestly not even call him that if he didn’t care about a poor, defenseless animal.
Chapter 12
I t was strange, really, how much his penthouse seemed to beckon me, as if it were my home, too. I sighed; it certainly felt that way as of late. But I had to remind myself as I looked in all directions as I stood in the foyer, that a home as extravagant as his, would never be something that I could obtain.
I sat my purse down on the large oak table in the entry way and tucked my trusty tablet beneath my arms once again. As I was taking off my shoes, Derek shoved past me with a huff and stomped down the hardwood floored hallway.
“Hurry your ass up, you useless girl!” he hollered out to me from over his shoulder. “I mean, will you?!”
I didn’t care though. Honestly, I was sick of hearing him yell and scream and throw tantrum after tantrum, but I was beginning to get used to it. Especially when I hopped out of our traffic-stuck car and held the poor dog until Polly could pick him up for me.
Boy, did I hear him throw a tantrum then.
It was comical though.
I honestly didn’t care. If I was fired for saving a dog, then so be it. I would happily pack up my desks and head out the door.
A compassionate boss was sounding better and better by the minute, to be honest.
I almost laughed. My dream the night before was seriously even more ridiculous after the day I just had with that horrible man. Any woman that found something in Derek Sholts was a woman who needed to have her head examined.
“You put us way behind schedule!” he yelled back to me, still stomping his way through his apartment towards the kitchen. “All because of that damn mangy mutt you wanted to save.”
I smirked. And just as I began musing about what sort of horrible woman would find something in Derek Sholts, a drop-dead gorgeous, model-esque blonde, wearing a tight black dress came strutting out of the kitchen like the hallway was a fucking runway.
She smiled as Derek walked closer to her, but before he reached her, her head snapped up to glance over his shoulder, to glance at me.
“Hello there.” She spoke to me as if I was some sort of intruder in her home, and she had no idea who I was or why I was there. But I didn’t care. In fact, I almost laughed in response. I was pretty sure that I had been in that house far more times than she had been.
“I’m, Derek’s girlfriend ,” she said rather snootily, as if I gave a damn. “Traci.”
She walked a couple of long-legged steps before reaching her hand out to me, in a downward fashion, as if I was supposed to kiss the back of it or something.
I did wonder, though, where the hell this woman had been for the past couple months if he had a girlfriend—and why he continued to hit on me if he had a girlfriend.
I looked at her hand, curiously for a moment, and realized that I was probably
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