Read Online Breathe: A Billionaire Romance, Part 1 by Jenn Marlow - Free Book Online
Authors: Jenn Marlow
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coming off as rude. But I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do with it. I extended my own hand out to her and grasped it fully, before turning it to the side to shake it properly.
She curled her lips, almost in disgust. “Your hands are sweaty, dear,” she whispered, almost as if she was trying to spare me from embarrassment, but honestly I didn’t care if the world heard that I had sweaty hands.
I wasn’t embarrassed.
I didn’t care.
I wiped my offensive hand on my skirt—purposely being as un-ladylike as humanly possible—and backed away from the woman.
“Thanks for letting me know!” I replied, sarcastically. I wasn’t worried though. This woman didn’t look like she could catch sarcasm if it was super glued and flying directly at her skeleton paws.
“Who are you?” she asked. “You...”—she eyeballed me for a moment—“... shook my hand but didn’t tell me your name.”
“I’m Zoe, Public Relations Representative and apparently Assistant to Mr. Sholts.”
She smiled up at me, relief flowing over her precious porcelain skin. I could tell that she loved the fact that I was the help rather than any sort of competition to her.
“Derek, dear,” she called out towards the kitchen, “you didn’t tell me we were having company.”
“Uh,” he snorted, rounding the corner with a soda in hand. “We aren’t having company. I am. You don’t live here.”
“Well, I guess I should just head out then!” she snapped as if she had some sort of footing over him, like magically if she threatened to leave that he would tell her he was sorry and that she was right and he was wrong, yada yada. But I knew better.
Derek Sholts was not one to back down.
Especially not for his flavor of the week.
“You know where the door is,” he called from over his shoulder, as he walked back into the kitchen.
Ouch .
That was a burn if I had ever saw one. People still said burn, right?
She stood, mortified, for a moment as he disappeared around the corner and I didn’t wait to see how she reacted beyond that.
I was hot on his tail, trying my very best to contain my laughter. It wasn’t that I necessarily approved of the fact that he was such a jerk, but the hilarity of her being such a jerk herself and being burned that way, was just ironic. Plus, it was all so awkward that I couldn’t help but find myself trying to laugh out of nervousness.
“So I’ve never seen that woman before,” I mused, finally catching up to him.
I heard the sound of the front door close, and I could do nothing but assume that she had done just as he had suggested and found her way out.
“And?” he said callously. “Do you keep tabs on all the women I see?”
“She said she was your girlfriend, but that doesn’t seem possible if I’ve never seen her and have seen multiple others.” I was trying to rationalize things that I knew deep down probably couldn’t have been rationalized. “And hitting on me.”
He laughed.
“Well, you’re right about one thing. She’s definitely not my girlfriend.”
“Then why does she think she is?” I asked, my brows furrowing, as if they were trying to decipher some complex code.
“Does that matter?”
“Of course it does.”
“I have no idea why they think they’re in relationships. I won’t correct her; she’ll find out soon enough.”
“I’m pretty sure she just figured it out,” I said and giggled. “But you still shouldn’t lead them on like that.”
My tone was growing serious, and in that moment, I wasn’t talking to him as an employee. I was talking to him as a person, as a woman.
“Get over yourself. Men aren’t monogamous creatures,” he snorted, rising up from his desk chair. “Even if she were my girlfriend, I’d still try and fuck you.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that.
“I mean look at you...” he trailed, biting his bottom lip, as he looked at me lecherously.
Again, I wasn’t sure how to take it.
“That’s utterly
She curled her lips, almost in disgust. “Your hands are sweaty, dear,” she whispered, almost as if she was trying to spare me from embarrassment, but honestly I didn’t care if the world heard that I had sweaty hands.
I wasn’t embarrassed.
I didn’t care.
I wiped my offensive hand on my skirt—purposely being as un-ladylike as humanly possible—and backed away from the woman.
“Thanks for letting me know!” I replied, sarcastically. I wasn’t worried though. This woman didn’t look like she could catch sarcasm if it was super glued and flying directly at her skeleton paws.
“Who are you?” she asked. “You...”—she eyeballed me for a moment—“... shook my hand but didn’t tell me your name.”
“I’m Zoe, Public Relations Representative and apparently Assistant to Mr. Sholts.”
She smiled up at me, relief flowing over her precious porcelain skin. I could tell that she loved the fact that I was the help rather than any sort of competition to her.
“Derek, dear,” she called out towards the kitchen, “you didn’t tell me we were having company.”
“Uh,” he snorted, rounding the corner with a soda in hand. “We aren’t having company. I am. You don’t live here.”
“Well, I guess I should just head out then!” she snapped as if she had some sort of footing over him, like magically if she threatened to leave that he would tell her he was sorry and that she was right and he was wrong, yada yada. But I knew better.
Derek Sholts was not one to back down.
Especially not for his flavor of the week.
“You know where the door is,” he called from over his shoulder, as he walked back into the kitchen.
Ouch .
That was a burn if I had ever saw one. People still said burn, right?
She stood, mortified, for a moment as he disappeared around the corner and I didn’t wait to see how she reacted beyond that.
I was hot on his tail, trying my very best to contain my laughter. It wasn’t that I necessarily approved of the fact that he was such a jerk, but the hilarity of her being such a jerk herself and being burned that way, was just ironic. Plus, it was all so awkward that I couldn’t help but find myself trying to laugh out of nervousness.
“So I’ve never seen that woman before,” I mused, finally catching up to him.
I heard the sound of the front door close, and I could do nothing but assume that she had done just as he had suggested and found her way out.
“And?” he said callously. “Do you keep tabs on all the women I see?”
“She said she was your girlfriend, but that doesn’t seem possible if I’ve never seen her and have seen multiple others.” I was trying to rationalize things that I knew deep down probably couldn’t have been rationalized. “And hitting on me.”
He laughed.
“Well, you’re right about one thing. She’s definitely not my girlfriend.”
“Then why does she think she is?” I asked, my brows furrowing, as if they were trying to decipher some complex code.
“Does that matter?”
“Of course it does.”
“I have no idea why they think they’re in relationships. I won’t correct her; she’ll find out soon enough.”
“I’m pretty sure she just figured it out,” I said and giggled. “But you still shouldn’t lead them on like that.”
My tone was growing serious, and in that moment, I wasn’t talking to him as an employee. I was talking to him as a person, as a woman.
“Get over yourself. Men aren’t monogamous creatures,” he snorted, rising up from his desk chair. “Even if she were my girlfriend, I’d still try and fuck you.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that.
“I mean look at you...” he trailed, biting his bottom lip, as he looked at me lecherously.
Again, I wasn’t sure how to take it.
“That’s utterly
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