Zander
Jude sat at my desk where I stood behind it; I couldn’t sit still. I knew this was coming, but I did not want to have this conversation, not even with him.
I was in a p.issy mood, and I couldn’t put words to it myself—let alone talk to another person about it. So my own annoyance fears and confusion clanged through me without an escape, irritating me to no end.
“Go on,” I told him. I knew he would ignore the bite in my voice; he knew it wasn’t meant for him.
“So…” he started slowly. “I know we can cover the cost, but I didn’t really budget for buying a person.”
I stopped pacing and glared at him. I turned to grab two glasses from the bar set on the shelves behind my desk and a bottle of whiskey, pouring us both large glasses and downing mine before he even took a sip.
He set
