*Isabella's POV*
"That fu**er, man whore," I cursed, feeling like a complete idiot for putting the company's reputation first instead of marching up to that fu**er and giving him a piece of my mind. I've never felt so humiliated in my entire life.
As I was wallowing in self-pity, Jacob noticed and walked over to me. "Now, now, Isabella, what are you doing?" he asked as he put his hand around my waist.
"Excuse me, what the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked, trying to hide the shock. He looked back at me, looking unfazed.
"Get your fu**ing hands off me!" I shouted.
"You looked like you needed some balance," he said, keeping his hands on my waist. "Let me guess. Boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?" he asked.
"None of your business," I responded cheekily.
"You weren't acting wise. What do you think co-workers will think if you make a scene and burst into tears here?"
Jacob moved his hand from my waist to my hip in an up-and-down movement.
"Now, loosen up and let's dance, Isabella," Jacob said and winked as he let go of me.
"It's Ms. Williams to you, and you crossed a line," I countered.
"You're free to go to HR and file a complaint," he responded with a smirk.
I don't know or understand why every little thing that comes out of his mouth is so damn sexy. But then again, I'm not gonna let this jerk know that.
"You are such an a**hole," I threw back at him.
"Now look who's the inappropriate one," he chuckled as I walked away from him. I went to the restroom and, for a moment, I forgot about Harry.
*04:00 AM*
I stood in the house in immense darkness, watching the drunk Harry try to sneak in. I flipped on the light switch, shocking him as I walked up to the drunk motherfu**er.
"Good morning, Harry," I greeted in disgust.
"Hey, Isabella, I was just—"
"Back so soon?" I said, cutting him short—not interested in hearing the bullsh** his drunk dumba** mind would try to come up with.
"Well, yeah."
"You didn't spend the night?" I asked rhetorically.
"Like I said, I was out with the boys—" he replied.
"I didn't know boys wore skirts and fake blonde wigs. I didn't know boys go to Legends in skirts and heels and kiss each other like you were kissing that fake-haired bi*** you were with at Legends earlier tonight. Like what the hell, Harry?" I countered in anger, shocking him.
"Oh, for fu**s sake, Isabella, it's not such a big deal. Don't pretend like your boss hasn't slid his hand up your skirt from time to time," he replied nonchalantly as he started chuckling.
"You know damn well that has never happened. You know what? I'm out of here," I responded.
"Where the fu** would you go? You don't have any money—all your money goes to that stupid college—and friends? You don't have any of those either," he replied, obviously enjoying himself, and I wasn't going to have that.
I slapped his face, packed a bag with as many clothes as I could, and just walked away. The day was about to break into dawn, so I kept walking. Harry was partially right. I had almost no friends. The female population hated me and always said sh** behind my back. Jealousy, maybe. I had my sh** together and always knew what I wanted. And I never cared about them.
I knocked on Cole's door, and he opened it, looking tired as hell. "Boo, b****!" I said excitedly.
"Isabella, what the hell?" he asked as I giggled.
"I'll explain later. Can I crash here?" I asked.
"No."
"Cole, for God's sake, please?"
"Okay, fine. You can have the couch, but I have company tonight," he replied, causing me to smile in happiness.
"Good for you. I'll try to be incognito."
*Saturday Morning*
I was sitting on the couch with a blanket thrown over me. "Where's the lucky fellow?" I asked Cole, who was typing away on his phone.
"What makes you think it's not a girl?" he asked, laughing.
"Oh, how I forgot."
He walked over to the couch. "Move over."
"By all means, join me," I replied. Cole sat next to me on the couch as we shared the blanket. "They ran away while you were asleep," he responded.
"Thank god," I said, and we burst out laughing.
"So, tell me. What happened?" he asked when we were both done laughing.
"It's Harry."
"What's wrong with Harry?" Cole asked.
"What *isn't* wrong with him? That screw-up cheated on me," I replied, shocking Cole. "That son of a monkey's a**!" Cole shouted.
"Hold your horses, dude. I'm fine," I said.
"What do you mean, you're fine?"
"I mean I'm over him," I countered.
"When did this happen?" Cole asked. "Last night. I saw him making out with some chick at the club," I spat out.
"So did you poke her eyes out? Explode one of her implants? At least tell me you did something!" Cole screamed.
"Nothing. I kept my composure and confronted him at home," I responded, dissatisfied with myself.
"So, long story short, I need a place to stay until I can get my own."
"No worries, you're always welcome here," Cole replied. "But how can you be over him so soon?"
"It's not like I was in love with him or anything."