God, I Hate That Man Read online

  My main problem right now is Ashley Winters and her flat out refusal to even consider my proposal. For the record, I realize I fucked up. I should have taken my grandpa’s advice and been charming. Instead, I was cocky, arrogant, and made it sound like our marriage was a done deal. I suppose in my mind it was.

  It never really occurred to me that Ashley might say no to such a plum deal. I didn’t expect her to take one look at me then fall in lust with me like the stupid fantasy I indulged in, but I did expect someone with a business mind who runs a seriously underfunded charity to see the sense of the deal I offered. Maybe I should have mentioned how short a short-term arrangement it would be. Only as long as it took for all of the paperwork to go through and we could probably be divorced within six months. Also, I should have made it even clearer that it would be nothing more than a business arrangement and she wouldn’t be curtailed in any way at all.

  I guess none of it matters now.

  I fucked up in good style, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t think how I can approach her again. I can’t arrive with a box of chocolates and flowers because she would see right through that. I’ve already played the think how many fifteen year old boys you could help with the money. Maybe, if I had told her just how much was at stake… I know instinctively though, I could offer her a billion and it would make no difference.

  In fact, I’ve got her so riled up I can’t even imagine her agreeing to see me again, let alone changing her mind about the deal. I know I should inform Andrew Garfield that the marriage won’t be happening, but I haven’t yet. It’s only been a day since I spoke to Ashley, and I’m still clutching at straws, still trying to convince myself I can turn this around.

  Who knows, maybe I can. Maybe some idea will come to me over the rest of the weekend. It had better. I didn’t take the whole weekend off to feel this restless energy, to hear this irritating little voice in my head mocking me for failing so spectacularly.

  I took the whole weekend off, something I never do, to come up with some genius plan to convince Ashley this is a good idea. There’s still time. It’s only Saturday. Maybe I’ll feel more inspired tomorrow.

  One thing I know for sure… running isn’t clearing my mind or bringing new ideas. If anything, it’s making me feel even more hopeless. Even the music I have pounding through the room isn’t distracting me from my negative thoughts. With a sigh, I reach out and turn the speed of the treadmill down to start my cool down. I think maybe I should lift some weights. If nothing else, it might get rid of this tight ball of frustration inside of me.

  I coast through my cool down, until my slow jog becomes a walk, then I turn it off and jump off. I pick up a towel and rub away the sweaty sheen that’s formed on my skin. I drape the towel around my shoulders as I move towards the first rack of weights. Just as I’m about to pick one up, my intercom buzzes.

  I’m not expecting anyone and I frown. I shrug and turn the music off, heading for the intercom. I press the talk button. “Yeah,” I say.

  “Hi, Mr. Jagger. It’s Matthew from the front desk. You have a guest that isn’t on the approved guest list.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Ashley Winters,” Matthew voices, almost apologetically.

  Well, well. I feel the surge of wild victory. Like a caveman who finds out a hot woman is standing at the mouth of his cave. Pity, she doesn’t have the hairstyle to make the image work. “Thanks, Matthew. Send her up, please.”

  I look down at my sweat soaked shorts. I don’t have time to change fully, but I slip them off and pull on a pair of grey sweat pants hanging on a rail.

  I move out of the room and through to the living room, the towel still draped around my neck as I wait for Ashley to arrive. The bell sounds as I get to the door. I open it and there she is.

  She’s wearing a pair of blue, high-waisted jeans with a lilac t-shirt. On her feet is a pair of brilliant white sneakers tied up into two large, neat bows. God, her fashion sense is fucking tragic.

  She doesn’t speak when I first answer the door. Instead, she just looks at me, her eyes moving down my body, taking in the fact that I am shirtless.

  I think I see a slight stain of color begin on her cheeks, but I can’t be sure.

  She catches herself staring at my chest, clears her throat primly, and quickly shoots her gaze upwards until she is looking me in the eye. “I shouldn’t have come here.” She lets her eyes stray down to my chest again before looking back up at my face, a look of judgement passing across her features. “And you’re clearly entertaining.”

  “If that were the case, I guarantee you that I wouldn’t have stopped to see you,” I explain. “I was working out.”

  “Oh,” she mumbles, and this time, she does blush. A deep red. Not unattractive, though.

  Great. If this were a match. Finn, one, Ashley, zero. I smile politely. “Why don’t you come in and make yourself comfortable while I go and change into something a little more appropriate.” I step back and open the door all the way.

  She nods once and steps inside. Her eyes are all over the place as she takes in the living room area. It’s a massive open plan room, cavernous and airy. The kitchen stands at one end with a mini bar beside it and a dining area set up. The black leather couch and chairs are positioned to give the best view of the city. Ashley doesn’t speak, she just stands mutely looking around.

  “Make yourself at home,” I say. “I won’t be long.”

  I move across the living room, down the hallway and into my bedroom. I quickly throw on a pair of black ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. I run my hands through my hair, getting it back into some sort of style. I glance at myself in the full-length mirror. To my surprise, my eyes are glittering with excitement. I frown at myself.

  What the actual fuck, Finn?

  This is just an arrangement.

  I move back to the living room, and for a second, I think Ashley has changed her mind and left. As I move further into the space, I see her standing on the balcony, her arms resting on the railing.

  Her back is to me as she looks out over the city. She must have sensed my eyes on her, because she turns around. She looks awkward as she steps back into the room. “I’m sorry. I just wanted some air,” she trails off, looking down at her too white sneakers.

  “It’s fine. I told you to make yourself comfortable, remember.” I shrug. “So, what brings you here, Ashley?”

  She looks up at me and her expression changes. Gone is the flustered woman who stood before me a second ago, replaced by someone with purpose. “I did a bit of research into you after you left my office yesterday.”

  “Really? Isn’t that like cyber stalking or something?”

  “It was when you did it too,” she points out.

  Ashley, one, Finn, one. I nod for her to go on.

  “I have a question. Why is someone like you, who was born into money and never wanted for a thing in his life, so desperate to get his hands on his grandfather’s company that he would even consider this insulting arrangement?”

  I shrug. “I have my reasons.”

  “Yeah, I figured. What are they?” She presses.

  “I want what should be mine.”

  “Bullshit,” she retorts. “You wouldn’t go to this much trouble just for the money. You don’t need it. So that makes this personal.”

  “Okay, you got me. It’s personal. My grandpa set me a final challenge and I intend to rise to it.”

  “We’re getting warmer, but that’s still not the full story, is it? If you want me to even consider this, then I need to know the truth.”

  “You want the truth? Here it is. My grandpa was a hard man to work for and he might have driven me crazy at times, but he also gave me a chance to prove myself. He expected a lot from me, but he pushed me and believed in me in a way my parents never really had. My parents just expected me to take a fancy title in a prestigious Fortune 500 company and bring in cash without killing myself in the process. As a matter of fact, I can do that right
now. Simply stay on as CEO at the company and earn a whopping salary and do little to earn it.

  She stares at me unblinking.

  “But my grandpa knew I would never take that option. I’m doing this because despite what you might think, I care about this company. It was his whole life and ever since I joined it, it has become mine too. I refuse to sit back and watch his life’s work go down the shitter because the board is too short-sighted to see that things need to change if we are to keep the company viable in today’s market. Is that honest enough for you?”

  “Yes,” Ashley agrees simply.

  I am angry suddenly. Not at her, but at myself for revealing so much. I don’t know how Ashley got me to do it. I would never have admitted any of this, even to the people I’ve known all of my life, and yet here I am, pouring out my truth to a complete stranger. One I’m not sure I like. “Now it’s my turn to ask you something. Why are you so against this idea? I did look into you, and I know your charity is barely staying afloat. The donations you receive barely cover the admin costs and you’re not able to help even a quarter of the amount of people you’d like to. So what is stopping you from accepting my offer? And please don’t say it’s just your own stubborn pride. That would be too… too sad.”

  “You don’t know me. Don’t you fucking dare stand there all high and mighty making assumption about why I do, or don’t do something!” She snaps.

  “I’m not. I asked you for your reasons,” I point out.

  “Same thing,” she begins, then stops, then starts again. “You know what? This isn’t worth it.” She moves towards the door.

  “You thought it was worth coming all of this way,” I say to her back.

  She stops moving, but she doesn’t turn around.

  I take a deep breath. I can’t believe I’ve fucked it up again. What is it about this girl that makes me say all the wrong things every fucking time? “Look, you’re here now, why not stay and talk about it? I’ll fix you a drink and we can discuss it like two adults. Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgement. Think of it logically, like you would think of any business deal.” I move towards the mini bar, purposely turning my back on Ashley and not looking at her. She can make her own choice now. She can stay, or she can leave. I want her to stay. I really think I can persuade her to see the logic in this, but I’m not about to beg.

  Not yet.

  I told her the truth earlier – I don’t want to see the company being run into the ground by a load of stuffy old assholes. But I rather not have to beg her for this. Maybe if she’d been a different kind of woman. Anyway, why should I? She will be getting as much out of the arrangement as I will be.

  I have no idea what Ashley likes, or whether she even drinks alcohol. For some weird reason I think she might be a Bacardi and Coke girl. I reach for the bottle. She can take it or leave it… if she’s still here when I turn back around. My ears are on high alert for the sound of the door opening, which hasn’t happened yet, but that doesn’t mean she won’t bolt at any second.

  I make the drinks and turn around.

  Ashley has turned back to face me. She holds my gaze in a bold challenge.

  I can outstare an owl. I keep her gaze as I approach her and she drops hers after a couple of minutes. She moves towards a couch and sits down. I feel a great relief sweep over me. There’s a long way to go here, but the fact she’s sticking around means she’s at least willing to consider doing this. I hand her one of the glasses.

  She takes it, smiling her thanks. “What is it?”

  “Bacardi and Coke.”

  She frowns. “Your report was that detailed?”

  “No, I just guessed. You look like a Bacardi and Coke girl.”

  She studies me suspiciously. Obviously, she doesn’t believe me.

  I take the couch opposite to hers and watch as she gingerly sips at her drink.

  Then she takes a longer drink, she catches me watching her, instantly and surprisingly adorably, looks shy. She puts her drink down on the coffee table and straightens her spine. “Right,” she decides firmly. “Back to business. You asked me earlier why I came here. I came because you’re right. The charity is struggling massively, and we’ve just been turned down for some government funding that would have made a big difference. I would do anything to keep the charity going. The young people we’re helping don’t need another slap in the face; they don’t need to think that one more person who they’ve come to trust has abandoned them. So that’s why I’m here. I’m here to hear you out and consider your offer.”

  “Good,” I say. “I really do believe we can help each other, Ashley. So here’s my offer. If you agree to this, you get one hundred thousand dollars right there and then. You’ll receive another two hundred and fifty thousand the day after the wedding. And you’ll receive one percent of the monthly profits. Obviously, that can fluctuate, but as a rough guide, we made just short of an eighty million dollar profit last year. So you’d be looking at approximately sixty five thousand dollars per month.”

  “Wow! You have no idea what a difference that would make,” Ashley exclaims.

  “So you’ll do it then?”

  “Before I answer that question, I need to ask you something. And I want you to be honest.”

  “Of course,” I say. “Naturally, I don’t expect you just to take my word for this. We’ll have lawyers draw up a formal agreement, and I’ll allow your accountant to see the books and everything.”

  She smiles at me and shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant. The money your company makes, I would trust that you wouldn’t try to rip off a charity.”

  “That’s something I would never do. For a monkey in a suit, I’m actually pretty honest.”

  She smiles and blushes again then she turns serious, although her cheeks only get redder. “What I want to ask you is a little more personal. Finn, do you actually want to marry me?” She asks.

  “No,” I say immediately. And it’s the truth.

  “Why not?”

  I hesitate. “You sure you want to hear this?”

  She nods. “Absolutely, be as blunt as possible.”

  “Okay, you’ve asked me to be honest, so I am going to be. You’re not my type… at all. You’re too little for one thing. I’ve never ever been with a woman who was as small as you, and I think I’d be afraid I’d hurt you. Plus, your hair is way too short and your dress sense is… well, it’s almost like you’re going out of your way to repel people. I’ve never really considered marriage, but if I was going to get married, it would be to someone who wanted to make a home, not rush off to her office before me.” I realize I have probably said too much and I rein myself in before I can say anymore. “I guess that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you did ask for brutal honesty.”

  Ashley laughs softly. “I definitely could have done without the list of my faults as you perceive them, but that’s actually exactly what I wanted to hear.” She smiles at my confused expression. “You’re the one who told me to take the emotions out of this, Finn. I just wanted to make sure we’re both on the same page, that you’re not secretly looking for this to turn into anything.”

  “Absolutely not,” I admit quickly. This was easier than I thought it would be. “And in the interest of equality, why don’t you tell me all of the reasons why you wouldn’t want to marry me. Assuming there are any of course.” I wink at the last part.

  Ashley rolls her eyes. “Okay, but remember you asked for this.”

  I nod. Her insults would be water off a duck’s back and it would be good to get it all out in the open.

  “Well firstly, you’re rude and arrogant, and I can’t stand that in a person. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, and you have no idea of the difficulties facing people who weren’t so lucky. You’re basically an entitled brat, and the one time you do decide you’re going to do something for a charity, it’s not about the charity, it’s about you getting what you want. If I ever choose to get married, it will be to a man who ca
res about more than just himself.”

  I raise my brows at this assessment.

  “Oh,” she adds almost like an afterthought. “And you’re far too concerned about material things, and what you look like. Although I suppose that comes with the territory of being a pretty boy.”

  “You think I’m pretty?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  “That’s not a compliment,” she clarifies briskly. “Do you have any idea how much of a turn off it is to women?”

  “I hate to disillusion you Ashley, but I can say from personal experience that the majority of women would disagree with you there.”

  “Ugh, you’re so gross,” she observes haughtily.

  “So we’ve established,” I say easily and smile at her. “I think it’s fair to say we don’t like each other, and in any other circumstances, we’d sooner gouge our own eyes out than date each other.”

  Ashley nods slowly. “Yeah, I think that about sums it up.”

  “So in conclusion, Ashley Winters, I fucking hate you, but will you marry me, anyway?” I say with a smile.

  Despite herself, Ashley laughs. With her defenses down, and a genuine laugh on her lips, she is… almost attractive.

  But her laugh is truly infectious and I find myself laughing with her. I take a drink when I stop laughing and meet her eyes over the rim of the glass. I move the glass away from my mouth and hold her gaze a moment longer.

  She looks away first.

  “Is that a yes?” I ask when it becomes clear to me she isn’t quite ready to agree to this just yet.

  She stares at the ground and swallows hard. This is obviously difficult for her to agree to.

  “It’s really a no-brainer,” I say persuasively. “Since there’s no risk of either of us falling for the other and getting hurt. It’s only for a few months. Six months tops.”

  She nods slightly.

  “I would do anything to save this company, and although I don’t know you very well, I think it’s a safe assumption that you would do anything to help these kids.” I pause.