God, I Hate That Man Read online

  “Honestly, I surprised myself,” I admit. “I didn’t expect to find myself hugging kids and listening to their stories either.” I turn slightly to face her. “And I definitely didn’t expect to feel like this.”

  “Feel what?”

  “To feel… as if I did something important,” I admit honestly. If I had gone back and tackled my to-do-list it would have been satisfying, but it would never have felt like this.

  “You didn’t expect it to feel rewarding?” Ashley asks, with an eyebrow raised.

  “No,” I say softly, but suddenly, I can’t look into her searching eyes. What I’m feeling is too real and too hard to articulate. I turn my gaze back to the front, put the car into gear, and pull away. “Are you going home now?”

  “No. To the office, please.”

  I nod and turn the car in that direction.

  For a while, there is silence. Then I let it pour out, “I didn’t expect to feel so angry about what was happening to these kids. I didn’t expect to feel so protective of them.” I can feel Ashley’s eyes on me, but I don’t turn to look at her, instead I keep my eyes firmly on the road, even though we’re at a red light.

  “You expected them all to be druggies or rebellious, didn’t you?” Ashely asks. “Kids you could tell yourself brought their misfortune on themselves.” Her voice doesn’t sound judgmental. It sounds resigned, like she experiences it every day.

  “Yeah, I did,” I confess. “And I know why. It’s easier to ignore the problem and tell yourself it’s not up to you to fix it if you let yourself believe that the homeless are not your problem. That they somehow, don’t deserve their situation exactly, but that they’re somehow responsible for their own mess. But when you see how many of them are just kids, then you can’t pretend anymore.”

  “For what it’s worth, I thought that way myself once too.” Ashley nods. “Until I started working with these kids, that is. That’s why I fight so hard for them, because aside from all the obvious challenges they face, people don’t realize how much prejudice they face. Can you imagine Finn, being fifteen and not having eaten for three days? And every adult that passes you by just shrugs it off, and doesn’t help you. Imagine how that must feel.”

  “I don’t want to imagine it,” I say quietly.

  “No one does, because then they know they’d be forced to act.’ Her voice changes slightly.

  I do look at her then, just a quick glance.

  She’s smiling. “But you know the difference between you and ninety-nine percent of the people in this city who are in a position to help? You are helping. The money you are donating is going to make a huge difference to these kids’ lives. But more than that, you sucked it up, went in there and actually helped them. You spoke to them like they mattered, and while there are still people willing to do that, then these kids still have hopes and dreams for a better future.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I say. Her words of praise are doing things to me.

  “Well I do.” Ashley laughs then. “And I have to say I was quite impressed that you didn’t throw a fit when you ended up with gravy down the front of your shirt,” she adds.

  I glance down at myself and I can’t help, but smile. There are spots of gravy, spots of some kind of tomato based sauce and who knows what else caked onto my shirt. I’m not the only one who came out of there to help serve the food, but I’m probably the only one who was dumb enough to refuse an apron.

  “It’s only a shirt,” I say. “Plenty more where this came from.”

  Ashley makes a disapproving noise and although she’s still smiling, the spark has gone from her eyes.

  Once again, it is clear we are from different sides of the fence. For a while, I climbed the fence and went to her side, but now I am back where I belong.

  We ride the rest of the way to her office in silence and when I drop her off, she flashes me a quick smile, then disappears into her office building.

  8

  Finn

  I look at my watch when the doorbell sounds. It’s almost midnight. I groan internally. It’s probably going to be one of my buddies, drunk and avoiding his wife. I stand up when the insistent ringing comes again. I’ve got too much on my plate to be listening to the drunken raving of anyone tonight. Normally, I’d be willing to help out a friend, but I have an important international three-way meeting scheduled for twelve-thirty and it won’t do to have a drunk prancing around in the background.

  To my total astonishment, I see Ashley through the peephole. I pull the door open. “Umm, hi.”

  “Hi,” she greets brightly, but she doesn’t offer any explanation as to why she’s here.

  “What brings you here so late?” I ask.

  She sighs then, a heartfelt sigh that makes her smile slip from her face, and allows her distress to show for a moment. I don’t know what’s happening, but she’s clearly not one of my drunk friends and I’m not about to send her away. I step back and gesture for her to come inside. As she steps past me, I see a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

  “I came by a couple of times earlier, but you weren’t home,” she says as though that explains everything.

  “I was working late.”

  “I see I made the approved visitor list,” she remarks, with a half-smile.

  “Well, you are going to be my wife. It would be a little weird if you didn’t.”

  “About that, Finn,” she starts.

  “There’s no changing your mind now, Ashley. You know as well as I do that it’s too late for that. You’ve already met the wedding planner and things are moving.”

  “I’m not backing out. I just… do you have a minute?” She asks.

  I subtly check my watch. It’s just about twelve. I can spare a little time.

  “I’m sorry, I know it’s late,” Ashley rushes on.

  Obviously, I wasn’t as subtle as I thought I was with the watch. “It’s fine. Sit down.”

  Ashley puts her large bag down on the ground by the end of the couch and sits down.

  I sit down on the opposite side.

  We’re both in the same spots we were in the last time she turned up here and we agreed to this deal.

  I look at Ashley, waiting for her to explain what’s going on.

  “The lease ran out on my apartment a couple of months ago, and I didn’t get it renewed. It’s seriously hard to find a decent apartment anywhere in this city unless you have thousands of dollars to spend on rent each month, which I just don’t. I moved back in with my parents until I found somewhere suitable. My father and I got into a big argument earlier and well…”

  “Okay.” I try to sound interested. Doesn’t she have girlfriends she can go to with this stuff? I really have no idea what to say to her.

  She gestures to the bag. “It ended up with me leaving.”

  The irony of this isn’t lost on me. Ashley, the champion of the homeless, almost found herself living amongst them. “You seem to make a lot of problems for yourself by thinking with your emotions instead of your head,” I stupidly blurt out. And that’s why she should have gone to someone else for wine and sympathy. It’s really not my area of expertise.

  Ashley ignores me and carries on as though I haven’t spoken, “And it was only when I walked out that I realized I had nowhere else to go. I thought seeing as we’re about to be married, and we’re going to have to make a show of living together anyway, that maybe I could crash here for a couple of nights?”

  Well, that was an easy one. “Sure, why not. Plenty of room here.”

  “What’s the catch?” Ashley asks, even as relief floods her face.

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “You agreed to this awfully easily,” she points out.

  “There isn’t a catch. As you pointed out, we’re going to be married soon. How would it look if you were crashing on someone’s couch instead of being here? And it’s not like you’re going to get wasted every night and smash my apartment up. Right?”

  “
Right.” She grins. “I only do shit like that on Thursdays.”

  She surprises me with her quick humor and I laugh.

  She laughs with me.

  “I’m hardly ever home anyway, so you’ll mostly have the place to yourself, but when I am home and I’m working, I expect you to stay out of the way and not disturb me,” I add. I swear it’s like a disease. The second I start to feel at ease with Ashley I say something idiotic to remind her why she doesn’t like me.

  Thank God, she doesn’t take my words too seriously. “I think I can manage that,” Ashley pipes up with a big smile.

  “Good,” I say. “Let’s put that to the test then, shall we? I have a video conference in fifteen minutes and I don’t expect to hear you banging around or anything in the background.”

  “Got it.” Ashley nods. “But seriously. You have a work thing at this time?”

  “The client is in a different time zone,” I explain. “And getting his business could be a real pivotal moment for us. It’s worth working late for.” I stand up before she can start asking a ton of questions. “I’ll give you the tour.” I smile.

  Ashley stands up beside me.

  I wonder if I should grab her bag. She picks the bag up herself and my moment to look like a gentleman is lost. Oh, well. I figure it’s a little late to try acting the gentleman with Ashley now, anyway. She’ll probably think I have an ulterior motive and we’d end up in a fight about it.

  I point behind me. “So obviously, that’s the kitchen and dining area. Like I said I’m hardly ever home, and when I am, I don’t relish cooking. I don’t keep food in the house for that reason, but if you’re ever hungry, look in the top drawer and you’ll find a bunch of menus. I have accounts at each of those places. Feel free to order whatever you want.”

  “You have no food at all in the house?” Ashley asks.

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “You’re weird.”

  “And you’re very judgmental for someone who has nowhere else to go,” I point out with a grin.

  “Fair point.” She laughs. “I take it back. It’s completely normal to have a state of the art kitchen and use it to store take-out menus.”

  “Exactly.” I hide my smile and lead Ashley through a door and into a hallway. “That’s my room,” I say, pointing to the first door on the left. “And beside it is my office. I don’t expect you’ll need to be in either of those rooms. The next door on that side of the hall is a gym which you are welcome to use. The first door on the right is a bathroom which again, you are welcome to use, although obviously, you’ll have your own en-suite. That last door on the right is your room.”

  “And that middle door on the right? Is that the mysterious room I’m not allowed to go in because all of your secrets are in there?” Ashley asks with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Is that where you keep the bodies of your business rivals who’ve crossed you?”

  “Well, actually it’s a linen closet, but I like your version better,” I explain with a grin. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really do have to go and get prepared for this meeting. Make yourself at home, okay?”

  Ashley nods and she makes her way down the hallway to her room.

  I catch myself watching her ass as she walks away and look away quickly before I duck into my office.

  9

  Ashley

  I’m feeling kind of strange as I step into Finn’s guestroom. I came here because honestly, I have nowhere else to go. Both Mariella and Janice, my two best friends live with their boyfriends and it would be awkward for me to dump myself on them. And anyway, since they got their men, they have had a lot less time for me.

  I guess I could have gone to my aunt’s house, but I didn’t want to have to go through the argument with her and I knew Finn wouldn’t care enough to ask me what the argument was about.

  The argument with my dad was really just the usual shit. My dad telling me my work is dangerous and me reminding him it’s not half as dangerous for me as it is for the kids on the streets. He then went on to point out that’s not my problem and as always, it escalated from there. And this time, it didn’t stop at its usual place. It turned into a whole bunch of personal insults, and I knew by the end of it that I couldn’t stay there.

  My aunt wouldn’t understand any of it. She’d just tell me to let it go, but it’s not that easy. I can’t just let it go when my own father thinks my job is worthless. God, I’m such a textbook case. Daddy doesn’t love me enough so I choose to work with kids who get no love, so I can feel all warm and fuzzy about myself and maybe find some validation somewhere else.

  I shake my head. Where the fuck did that come from? It’s almost like Finn is in my head. I shake this thought away too. It’s not Finn’s voice, it’s mine and I just need to get the hell over myself.

  Now I’m here… at Finn’s apartment, I feel like maybe I’ve overstepped the mark a little bit. I mean is it normal to turn up at a virtual stranger’s home and ask to crash there? But then again, is it normal to come to a stranger’s office and ask them to marry you for money? Nothing about the arrangement Finn and I have is exactly conventional.

  So…

  The more I think about it, the more it actually seems like I’m in the right place. Most people don’t wait until after they’re married to live together, anyway. Maybe this will help with the ruse, because right now, I still haven’t told anyone about the wedding. I just can’t figure out how to make the story sound even remotely convincing. I’m just not the kind of girl who meets someone and has the fairy tale romance that ends in a wedding after just a month.

  No one who knows me is going to believe that’s what happened. I push away my worries; they’re the same old worries I’ve had since I agreed to this and I haven’t come up with a solution to them yet, and I don’t think I ever will. Instead of worrying, I look around the guestroom.

  I don’t imagine Finn has many guests staying overnight here, at least not the kind that don’t share his bed, and yet the guestroom is set up perfectly as though he’s always expecting an overnight guest.

  The bed is a massive king, covered with a soft looking, thick duvet with a pristine white cover on it. The sheets and pillowcases are pure white too. Dang, I’m almost afraid to sit down on it in case I get it dirty. There are bedside cabinets on either side of the bed, a matching wardrobe and chest of drawers. In the corner of the room beside the chest of drawers is a small black leather armchair, positioned to give the best view of the balcony and the city beyond it.

  There is so much glass in this apartment that it feels almost like I’m outside. Every room has a stunning view and I spend a moment just standing in the center of the room, looking out over the twinkling lights of the city. I know I should find this kind of lifestyle obscene, but I don’t.

  I can understand why Finn wants to live somewhere like this. I can understand why anyone would. Searching for an apartment of my own really brought that home to me. I might have lost a lot of the materialistic side of my nature, but I still don’t want to live in a shithole apartment, in the sort of place where the hallways smell of urine and people are shooting up on the staircases. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite, but I’m not ashamed of not wanting to live in squalor.

  I push my duffel bag off my shoulder and begin to unpack my things. I haven’t brought a lot. It wouldn’t have been much even if I had brought everything I owned. I hang up my clothes. I have brought three work outfits and two non-work outfits. A handful of underwear, some toiletries, and that’s pretty much it.

  I wander through to the attached bathroom with my toiletry bag and my jaw drops. This is no little en-suite, although why I thought it would be, I don’t know. The room is bigger than my bedroom in my old apartment with a lovely big bathtub and a large shower. It’s all cream with fawn accents. I instantly fall in love with how light, bright and airy it looks. I place my toiletries on the marble countertop beside the sink, noting how sad they look in this luxurious room.

  I go back to the bed
room and strip off, folding my clothes then laying them on the arm chair. It’s only then I realize I haven’t brought any pajamas or a night dress. I could sleep naked, but what if I want a glass of water or something in the night and I run into Finn?

  I throw my clothes back on with a sigh and head out of the room. I can hear Finn’s voice drifting out of his office and I know better than to go to him and ask him if he has something I can wear. Instead, I go to the linen closet, hoping to maybe find something I can wear in there, like a spare robe or something. The closet is filled with towels and sheets, duvet covers and pillowcases. There’s even a spare duvet and a bag full of spare pillows.

  But there’s nothing even remotely resembling a robe.

  I curse under my breath and head back towards my room. I guess I’ll just have to throw my blouse back on if I need to wander around in the middle of the night. As I reach out my hand to open the door and go back into my room, I remember Finn saying the room opposite mine was a gym which I’m welcome to use. There’s not much chance of that. The only time I work out is when I’m so mad I can’t quite get rid of all of the pent-up tension inside of myself unless I pound it out on something.

  But I’m curious as to what equipment he has so I push the door open and step inside. The room is as well-equipped as any public gym I’ve ever been to, which granted, is only two, but still. There’s a treadmill, a rowing machine, an elliptical, and an exercise bike. And that’s just the cardio stuff. There are free weights, various machines I don’t even recognize, and a few machines I do. My attention falls on the far wall though. There are a few pegs there and hanging from them is a pair of sweatpants and a nicely ironed, light blue shirt. I smile to myself and grab the shirt.

  I’m sure Finn won’t mind me wearing it, and it’s only for one night. I’ll buy a pair of pajamas tomorrow. Even if he does mind, I know he would rather me take the shirt without permission than go into his office while he’s having a video conference with a potential new client and ask him if I can wear the shirt.