*Isabella's POV*
"Well, you're gonna have to move out," Cole said bluntly, his tone steady but with an undercurrent of seriousness. My stomach clenched. I spun around, eyes narrowing. "What? Did she say that?" I snapped, fists clenched at my sides. My mind raced with anger and confusion. "Who is this bitch? And who the fuck does she think she is?" The rage boiled over, my voice echoing with fury.
Cole held up his hands, trying to keep calm. "Calm down. She didn't say that. But we really need to keep this shit a secret. And, honestly, with you living here—" he sighed heavily, looking conflicted. I cut him off, voice trembling with frustration. "Why can't you just go to her place?" I asked, losing hope fast.
He hesitated, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "We can't… it's complicated. With her roommate," he replied quietly, avoiding my eyes. "Jesus, Cole," I snarled, voice thick with bitterness. "You have no fucking idea what happened to me today. Don't be an asshole about this, okay?"
He looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he took a slow breath, trying to stay composed. "I didn't say I had to move out today. But… next week?" His voice was cautious, almost hesitant. I stared at him, exhausted and beaten down by the day's bullshit. Without another word, I simply nodded, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on me. I was too tired to fight anymore.
"Now go to your room," I said, voice low but firm, a hint of sarcasm in my tone. "I'm going to take off my clothes in 3, 2..." I didn't bother waiting for him to leave. Instead, I started stripping down into my underwear, the movement almost automatic, a strange mix of defiance and resignation.
Cole's eyes widened in shock, and he gasped, stumbling backward out of the room in a rush. The door swung shut behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts, the faint sound of his hurried footsteps fading away. I let out a soft, bitter giggle—silent, but full of irony—despite the chaos of today.
Today had been a fucking nightmare, I thought sarcastically. Yet, somehow, I was still here, still fighting. Thank God it's almost over. I couldn't handle another goddamn blow.
My mind was swirling—college, bills, debt, trying to figure out how the hell I was supposed to get thousands of dollars in three weeks. On top of that, I had to find my own place by next week. There was no fucking way I could afford it all.
Fucking hell. I was way too tired for this bullshit. All I wanted was sleep.
I pulled a blanket over myself on the couch, sinking into its warmth. My eyelids fluttered shut as exhaustion claimed me, drifting off into sleep, the chaos of the day fading into a dull hum in the background of my mind.
*The next day*
I sat at my desk, elbows resting on the surface, eyes glued to my computer screen, trying to drown out the chaos swirling inside me. The sound of footsteps approaching drew my attention, and I instantly knew who it was. Great. This asshole—Jacob—again. Walking my way like he owned the damn place, looking like a fucking snack, as if he didn't have a care in the world.
"Good morning, Ms. Williams," he greeted smoothly, walking into the office without waiting for a response. His tone was casual, confident—like he hadn't just barged into my space. I didn't even bother to nod or acknowledge him. Instead, I turned my attention back to my screen, pretending he wasn't there.
He shouted from inside his office, voice loud enough to cut through the quiet. "Can you come in here, please?" I stood up slowly, rolling my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, crossing my arms.
"Can you tell me where I can get a cup of coffee?" he asked, as if the answer to such a simple question wasn't obvious. His tone was casual, oblivious to the burning fury simmering just beneath my skin. "In the break room. There's a coffee machine," I spat out, voice cold and sharp. He smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. "But I'm sure Brittany can make a simple coffee—among the seventy things she can do. You know, like 69 other things, and the entire fucking office," I added, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
His face flickered with annoyance, but he kept his composure. "That's not funny," he said, voice low and slightly tense. Trying to change the subject, he asked, "Do we have any clients today?" I hesitated, then answered, "No, but tomorrow we're meeting Mr. Phoenix. We need to go through it thoroughly. I'll come back at 10 a.m. after you've had your coffee."
I turned to leave, but not before I caught the brief flicker of hurt and pain in his eyes—something raw and vulnerable that he quickly masked. I chose to ignore it, refusing to acknowledge the complicated mess beneath that confident exterior. Instead, I walked out of his office, shutting the door softly behind me, feeling the weight of unspoken tension hanging in the air.
I returned to Jacob's office at 10 am, determined to brief him on the upcoming meeting with Mr. Pheonix. "Okay, so Mr. Pheonix has some quirks," I said, trying to sound professional. "Firstly, he doesn't like people who are unprofessional. So make sure you're here when he arrives and not in a storage closet with Brittany." I added, trying to keep a straight face.
But Jacob just chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It riles you up so much, you can't forget about her," he countered, his voice low and teasing. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, but I tried to ignore it. "Anyway, don't call him Oliver, just Mr. Pheonix. Also, he likes a special herbal tea with a tiny bit of brandy. I'll make sure we have that in the office," I said, trying to stick to the topic at hand.
I added, "And don't wear anything that shows your tattoos. They're not businesslike and he might end the relationship we established just like that." Jacob raised an eyebrow, his expression mocking. "They're not businesslike," he repeated, making air quotes as he said it.
I countered, trying to keep my cool. "And that... stop being childish, it's not helping the business." But Jacob just kept pushing my buttons. "Oh, and as per Mr. Lancaster's request, all meetings are recorded for several reasons. One of them being that it's easier for me to summarize the meeting afterwards. I'll take care of that too, I am the recorder," I added, trying to sound efficient.
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "That's so old school. Is Pheonix okay with that?" he asked, his tone skeptical. I replied, "Yes, he allowed us to record the meeting." Jacob nodded, seeming to accept it. "Okay, then it's settled. I'll prepare the presentation for the pitch," I added, trying to sound confident.
But Jacob just teased me again. "Already. Nerd," he commented, his voice laced with amusement. I sighed, feeling frustrated. "The meeting is tomorrow. I'll show you everything. But please don't screw this up. I know you're a mess, but..." I trailed off, trying to keep my cool.
But Jacob cut me off, his voice bitter. "Me, messy? You're just a meet freak. Little miss perfect. Like your boss, a match made in heaven. Two peas in a pod," he counted, his words dripping with bitter sarcasm.