The Billionaire Next Door Hates Me

Chapter 3

Chapter 3 — The Parking War

SOPHIE'S POV

The first sign that Sophie Miller was about to have a terrible morning was the empty parking space.

The second was the tiny silver sign beside it that read: RESERVED — NATHANIEL WEST.

She stared at it through her windshield.

Then at the empty space.

Then at the clock on her dashboard.

7:18 a.m.

Her coffee was getting cold.

Her boss expected her at work in forty minutes.

And the only other parking spot she could see was three blocks away.

Sophie sighed.

"Technically," she whispered, "this is still his fault."

She had no idea how.

But blaming Nathaniel West made her feel better.

She pulled into the space.

"Perfect."

She grabbed her bag, took one last sip of coffee, and headed toward the building.

She made it exactly six steps before her phone buzzed.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Move your car.

Sophie stopped.

Another message appeared.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Now.

She stared at the screen.

Her thumbs hovered.

Then she typed:

SOPHIE: Good morning to you too.

The reply came almost immediately.

NATHANIEL: Sophie.

She smiled despite herself.

SOPHIE: Nathaniel.

NATHANIEL: Move. The. Car.

She looked back toward the parking lot.

"He's really committed to this."

Her phone buzzed.

NATHANIEL: I have a meeting in twenty minutes.

Sophie typed:

SOPHIE: Congratulations.

Three dots appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

Then nothing.

Sophie slipped her phone into her bag.

She had won.

At least, that's what she thought.

Twenty-three minutes later, Sophie walked out of the office building carrying a sandwich she'd bought for lunch.

She stopped dead.

Her parking space was empty.

Her car was gone.

Sophie slowly lowered the sandwich.

"No."

She looked left.

Nothing.

Right.

Nothing.

She checked her phone.

No missed calls.

No voicemail.

Then she noticed a small white card tucked beneath the windshield wiper of the car parked in the visitor section.

She recognized the car.

Her car.

Sophie marched toward it.

A security guard approached cautiously.

"Miss Miller?"

"Where was my car?"

"Mr. West had it moved."

Sophie stared at him.

"He had it towed?"

"Not towed. Relocated."

"That's a very expensive word for kidnapped."

The guard tried not to smile.

Sophie pointed toward her car.

"Where was it?"

"Visitor parking."

She looked at the building.

Then back at the guard.

"Does he do this to everyone?"

"No."

"Wonderful. I'm special."

The guard cleared his throat.

"I believe Mr. West left you a message."

Sophie looked at the white card.

She picked it up.

PARKING IS NOT A SUGGESTION.

She stared.

That was it.

No greeting.

No explanation.

No apology.

Just a threat disguised as punctuation.

Sophie pulled a pen from her handbag.

She turned the card over.

Then wrote:

NEITHER IS PERSONAL SPACE.

She tucked it beneath the windshield wiper.

For good measure, she added:

P.S. Your handwriting is terrible.

She stepped back.

Perfect.

She took a bite of her sandwich.

A voice came from behind her.

"Are you serious?"

Sophie nearly choked.

She turned.

Nathaniel stood several feet away.

Black suit.

Tie slightly loosened.

Phone in one hand.

And a look on his face that suggested he had spent the last five minutes reconsidering his decision to let her into the building.

Sophie swallowed.

"Good afternoon."

His eyes moved to the note.

Then back to her.

"You left that on my windshield."

"Yes."

"You insulted my handwriting."

"Constructive criticism."

"You parked in my space."

"Again."

"Again."

"You're repeating yourself."

His nostrils flared slightly.

Sophie bit back a smile.

Nathaniel walked toward her.

"You have a strange understanding of consequences."

"I understand them perfectly."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then why is your car in my space?"

Sophie opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Because, annoyingly, she didn't have a good answer.

"I was late."

"That's not an answer."

"It is an explanation."

"It's a poor one."

She crossed her arms.

"You could have called me."

"I did."

"I was at work."

"Exactly."

She frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"You were unavailable."

"So you had my car moved?"

"I had security move your car."

"Without asking me."

"You left it in my reserved space."

Sophie stared at him.

"You are unbelievably annoying."

"And yet you continue finding new ways to spend time with me."

She opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

Nathaniel's eyes flickered with something suspiciously close to amusement.

Sophie recovered.

"Don't flatter yourself."

"I'm not."

"You sounded like you were."

"I was stating a fact."

"You know what? I preferred you when you were silent."

"That makes one of us."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Was that a joke?"

"No."

"It sounded like one."

"Then your standards are low."

Sophie laughed.

She couldn't help it.

A short, surprised laugh escaped her.

Nathaniel looked at her.

For a second, neither spoke.

Something changed in his expression.

It was small.

So small she almost missed it.

Then he looked away.

"Move your car before six."

Sophie frowned.

"Why?"

"Because I have guests tonight."

She stared at him.

"Are they allergic to visitors' parking?"

"No."

"Then why does my car matter?"

His gaze returned to hers.

"Because you're staying in my apartment tonight."

Oh.

Right.

The four-night arrangement.

Sophie had almost forgotten.

"Fine."

She opened her car door.

Then paused.

"Wait."

Nathaniel looked at her.

"Where am I supposed to park?"

He pointed toward the far end of the lot.

She followed his finger.

The space was practically beside the dumpsters.

She looked back at him.

"You've got to be kidding."

"Visitor parking."

"That's not visitor parking. That's where dreams go to die."

His mouth twitched.

Sophie saw it.

"There."

His expression flattened.

"What?"

"You smiled."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"I was reacting to your dramatic description of a parking space."

"That is called smiling."

"It isn't."

"It absolutely is."

He turned away.

"Six o'clock, Sophie."

She watched him walk toward the building.

"You're welcome!" she called after him.

He stopped.

Turned.

"For what?"

She smiled.

"For making your morning interesting."

He stared at her for a long second.

Then shook his head and walked away.

Sophie watched him disappear through the doors.

She looked down at her sandwich.

Cold.

Her coffee was gone.

Her parking space had been stolen.

Her car had been relocated.

And somehow, she was smiling.

"Great," she muttered.

"He's contagious."

She got into her car and started the engine.

As she reversed out, her eyes caught the rearview mirror.

Nathaniel was standing inside the glass entrance.

Watching her.

The moment their eyes met through the window, he turned away.

Sophie frowned.

She wasn't sure why that bothered her.

Or why, for the first time, she wondered what he was like when nobody was around to annoy him.

Then her phone buzzed.

A new message.

NATHANIEL: And Sophie?

She waited.

Another message appeared.

NATHANIEL: Keep your car out of my parking space tomorrow.

Sophie smiled.

She typed back:

SOPHIE: No promises.

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

No reply.

Sophie laughed under her breath.

She had a feeling the billionaire next door had just met his match.

And judging by the silence from her phone, Nathaniel West was beginning to realize it too.