The Carrero Contract (series book 3)
I can feel his eyes darting from me to what he’s doing, but he stays quiet.
It’s a huge steel cannister thing that makes mass amounts of hot water quickly and is used for groups of businessmen who convene upstairs like a boardroom sometimes. Jackson readies two trays with mugs, sugar bowls and creamer, and I just stand there like an incapable fool, licking my wounds. Turning over the way he was being in my head and picking him apart until all that’s left is a pile of ashes.
“I’m fine.” I smile through my frown and try to wipe it off my face, telling myself I’m being overly sensitive. He is a wanker; I know this, and it’s expected of him to show that when he is out there with them
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