Too Late For Regret: The Assistant's Revenge

slammed against the windshield of the black Maybach, blurring the

behind the Carlyle Club. Her fingers gripped the leather steering wheel

igital clock on the

s when she waited for him. The suffocating blend of dread

hands to uncurl. Sh

November wind hit her instantly, stealing the air from her lungs. She popped the umbrella, but t

puddles sent a shock of

o, the night manager, stood just inside the awning. He p

hen," L

ckson's girlfriend. Miss Ch

, her voice steady, betraying no

, smelling of aged bourbon, expensive cigar smoke, and the distinct, arrogant sc

eels sinking into the plush carpet. She head

toward the private suites

f Suite 4 was cracke

oth, and completely devoid of warmth. It was the exact tone he

ackson said. "A merger between Booker Capital

ed her back against the cold wall of the corridor

rs. "And Carson Wall isn't exactly a hardship to look at, Jack. But what about you

e silence that followed stretch

dismissive sound that felt like a

merger is finalized, I'll cut her a severance check.

rance

n-is

beneath her feet. Christina pressed her nails so hard into her palms that the sk

crets, his whispered demands in the dark. R

her hair and landed on the m

ee her like this. Not

the women's restroom at the end of the hall. She pushed throug

s the color of chalk. Her chest heave

ed the water and splashed it over her face, ignoring the way it ruined her makeup.

, she told her refl

led a tube of red lipstick from her pocket. She ap

ne straight. She approached Suite 4 and knock

k on a leather chesterfield sofa, a crystal glass in his ha

over her wet hair, the damp shoulders of her coat, and

ce perfectly hollow. She held out his

idn't look at Rex. He just walked toward Christina, snatching the coat from her han

ature difference. He just wal

pened the rear door of the Maybach. Jackson sli

ngine, her hands trembling so violently she had to grip

in the car was thick enough to choke on. Christina kept her eyes glued to

om granite. He looked completely unaffected. He look

nderground garage of the Booker Building

the car. He walked toward the private elevator that led straig

llowed. That

he elevator just as the doors were closing. The mirrored walls of t

the door climbed r

. The fingerprint lock beeped as Jac

t onto the white leather sofa. He walked straight to the we

yer, the rainwater from her shoes s

ok at her. He took a sip of

oice dropping an octave, slicing through the

f course he noticed. He noticed the slight

," Christina whispered.

and drained the bourbon in one swallow. He slammed the empty crystal g

his left wrist, a gesture he only made

, turning his back to her and walking to

oor shut behind him

e, empty living room. The sound of

biting into her bare legs. She wrapped her arms around her st

ysically ached, until there

ked door. The pathetic hope was dead. He had priced h

hand. Tomorrow morning, she wouldn't wait for