The CEO and Her Driver

Chapter 49

How do you flirt with someone when all you want to do is slam their head against the bartop?

When dealing with someone unpleasant, sometimes all you can focus on is all the unpleasantness that makes them... well unpleasant. You tend to zone in on everything about the person you hate and begin to internally monologue about it. The way their stupid hair sits on their stupid head. The way their stupid face exists. The way their breathing makes any noise at all.

The more you are stuck taking in the loathing garbage heap of a person in front of you, the more self-control it takes not to crack. It's a form of torture that the FBI should consider using.

"So..." Carter said, his fingers tracing the rim of his newest shot glass. "Other than tearing up the dance floor, what do you do?"

I ignored the next drink he pushed in my direction. "I design clothing. And by the looks of you...." I said tapping my chin. "I'd say you a model for... Kmart?"

"Cute," Carter replied, eyes flashing with irritation before tucking it away behind a tight smile. He clearly didn't think it was in fact, cute. "Oh wait..." He looked at me with surprise, realization sparking across his face. "You're Allie Winters! The Fashion Designer!"

His smile widened, intrigued. "You have been busy. Your face has been all over the news!"

I shrugged, irked by his amused expression. Like I was a trainwreck he wanted to enjoy. "I like to keep busy."

"So modest!" he laughed, the sound making me grind my teeth. "You are a few publicity stunts away from kicking Royal Fashion out of the top spot in Los Angeles."

I ran my nail along the edge of the shot glass. "You know a lot about my line of work."

"You could say that." He glanced around the room. "Where's your dance partner? Pretty sure he'd be pissed if he saw me talking to you."

I rolled my eyes, waving my hand dismissively, hating my own words. "He's no one. Just business."

Carter snorted. "That dance didn't look like business."

He does have a point.

I leveled Carter with a dangerous stare, eyes glinting with promise as I looked up at him from under my lashes. "It can't be helped that I have chemistry with people."

"I can see that." He grinned, his hand landing on my bare knee, making my skin crawl. "Why don't you down that drink..." His hand inched higher. "We get out of here and then see how much chemistry we have?"

I grinned, placing my hand over his, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "There's just one problem with that plan."

He searched my face, his own, terribly close. "Oh, and what is that?"

I dropped my flirtatious mask, anger— no, rage consumed my being. He blinked, registering the change, and quickly tried to remove his hand from my knee. But my grip tightened.

"You drugged my drink," I explained, yanking his hand off of my knee. "And I don't put up with bullshit like that." I twisted his hand behind his back and slammed him against the bar top, his head smacking the cold surface, pressing against a coaster, startling the bartender and several people who were standing close by.

Carter tried to lift his head, but I kept it shoved against the counter, watching him attempt with somewhat repressed glee.

"Miss!" The bartender shouted, alarmed as I hopped up on the counter to keep my grip strong on his wrist, digging it into his back, and used my other hand to latch onto the side of his head.