Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Roger leaned in closer and sneered, “I don’t pay you to not follow my orders. Do you think you’re too good to clean them?” He glanced at his watch. “Time is ticking, Mad. I don’t care how late you have to stay to get it done. When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it.”
The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth from biting her tongue so hard.
She had a decision to make. Do what he demanded and keep her damn job or refuse and watch her career fall apart when he damaged her good reputation as a sports physical therapist.
Roger would no doubt lie to destroy her. Again, typical narcissist behavior.
Unfortunately, the decision she really wanted to make—kneeing ol’ Roger in the balls—would get her arrested for assault. Instead, she would fantasize about doing that while she scrubbed the damn toilets.
She should’ve moved to another area with other professional sports teams and skipped Pittsburgh completely.
Too late.
Even so, she had a goal, and no one was going to derail it.
Not even Roger Smith.
She was determined to get what she wanted, despite him and his asshole ways.
It didn’t take her twelve minutes. It took her over an hour to get all the disgusting toilets cleaned inside and out. “Gross” didn’t even cover it. She now had the utmost respect for people who cleaned for a living. They certainly weren’t getting paid enough to scrub piss covered floors or toilet seats. Or to pick up questionable items off the floor.
Once again, she sat in her car in the now empty parking lot while staring at her closed place of employment and contemplating her life choices.
After she finished with her assigned task and walked out of one of the bathrooms, she almost smacked right into Roger. Apparently, he’d been inspecting her work.
He was the asshole-ist asshole in a world filled with assholes.
It had been on the tip of her bleeding tongue to tell him that.
She didn’t. She swallowed it back down, squeezed past him, grabbed her things, and walked out the front door with her head held high since it was never smart to reveal your weakness to a narcissist.
She waited for him to call her back or complain about something she’d done. To make her do it all over again. He was lucky he didn’t.
Actually, she was lucky she could keep her thoughts contained. As difficult as that was.
She sat in her Toyota Highlander while he closed up and locked the front door. She sat in her car as he walked to the spot reserved for him near that front door. She sat in her Toyota as he slid into his Porsche.
And she remained sitting in her vehicle as he drove out of the lot without even a glance in her direction.
If looks could kill, his Porsche would’ve exploded with how hard she glared at it.
The clock on the dashboard said it was only a few minutes away from five-thirty. Her day was supposed to be done at four. Would she be paid for that extra hour and a half? Of course not. Be a few minutes late and get docked pay. Stay late and her time was a donation.
She wasn’t sure how much longer she would last at Smith’s. But it also wouldn’t look good on her resume if she job hopped.
Or couldn’t get a good reference.
Or was lied about.
And she was pretty damn sure if she told Roger to take this job and shove it, then he’d make up all kinds of stories about her.
She grabbed her phone out of the center cup holder and pulled up her contact list. She scrolled until she found Zeke’s number.
Maybe some time with her friend would help get her out of her miserable mood.
After three rings, she expected it to go to voicemail.
It didn’t.
A female answered on the other end. “Yeah?”
Yeah? “I’m looking for Zeke.”
“Who’s this?”
Maddie pulled in an irritated breath. “A friend.”
“He’s busy with another friend right now. You’ll have to wait your turn.”
She wasn’t stupid enough to ask what he was doing with that “friend.” She could guess. Especially since he was too busy to answer his own phone.
“Who’s this?” she asked the woman.
The phone went dead.
Maddie pulled it away from her ear to confirm the woman hung up on her. She quickly texted Zeke’s number. Call me when you’re not busy. Hopefully you’re okay.
Just as she was about to toss her phone on the passenger seat, her phone dinged with an incoming text.
The second she pulled it up, she regretted it. It was a photo of Zeke with one naked woman sitting on his face while another sucked his cock. The message with it read: He looks okay to me.
The only reason she recognized him was due to his tattoos. Otherwise, since his face was covered, it could be any photo of a man having group sex. But she really doubted Zeke would keep those kinds of photos on his phone. Naked women? Probably. A naked man? Not likely.