Page 30 of The Way I Hate Him
Like I’m naked and raw, ripe for the picking.
After a few seconds, she asks in disbelief, “You got me pickles?”
She’s softening toward me, I can see it in the way she slowly lowers her defenses, and I don’t like it. I want her annoyed with me. Angry. Irritated. So irate with frustration over being my assistant that she contemplates spilling my morning coffee on me.
Note to self, don’t do fucking nice things.
“Can you not make a big deal out of this?”
“But this is nice. You’re not nice to me or my family, so why would you do this?”
Precisely what I’m trying to figure out.
“I don’t know, you got me,” I say, tossing my hands up in the air. “Probably lost my goddamn mind.” I adjust the hat that rests on my head. “Just eat the fucking pickles, okay?”
“Okay,” she replies. “Thank you.”
I cringe. No . . . no, she can’t be grateful. That’s too much.
“No thanks needed. Forget it even happened.” And with that, I head out of the room and back to my studio, where I sit down on the couch and groan.
Fuck, why did I do that?
ChapterFive
HATTIE
“How was your first day?” Maggie asks into the phone as I drive from Hayes’s house to the farm to visit with Mac and Ryland.
“Weird,” I reply.
“Weird, how?”
“Well, once again, he was sitting outside on his porch, this time waiting for me. I was a minute late, and he made a big deal about it.”
“The man needs his coffee, what are you doing being late?”
“Shut your pretty mouth.” We both laugh. “And then he showed me how to make his coffee, gave me a quick tour of his bedroom, and took me to his office. When I say this man receives fan mail, I’m not kidding. I spent eight hours working today and got halfway through one bag. And Maggie, oh my God, the naked pictures he gets.”
“Really?” Maggie asks, her voice full of humor.
“Yes, like . . . so many naked pictures, and these girls are gorgeous. Some of their boobs . . . I’m really jealous.”
“You’re jealous of anyone with boobs since you don’t have any yourself.”
“Facts, but seriously, like even their nipples are perfect, not the slightest bit wonky. Although, I guess if you take a picture of yourself naked and send it to a popular singer, you wouldn’t have wonky nipples.”
“What is a wonky nipple?” Maggie asks.
“You know, like if one is a hamburger and the other is a hot dog.”
“What?” Maggie laughs.
“Like . . . if one nipple is longer horizontally and the other is longer vertically.”
“You think that’s wonky? I call that exciting. My right nipple is longer than my left, and I always tell myself it’s because that nipple was trying harder when growing. And you know what, I’d totally send a naked picture to Hayes Farrow if I weren’t worried that picture would somehow resurface and come back to bite my wedding business in the ass. Or else Hayes would be staring down the barrel of two non-wonky yet exciting and puzzling nipples.”
I let out a light laugh. “Puzzling nipples, now you know that’s something I could get on board with. And if I think about it, my nips are a touch wonky too.”
