“What about?”
I sit back in my chair, annoyed with her attitude. The majority of women gush over me—this one, not so much.
“What are you doing in New York?” I ask her to try to make polite conversation.
“You asked me that yesterday,” she snaps. “Get to the point.”
“I am asking you again now. Stop with the f*****g attitude.”
She narrows her eyes as if annoyed.
I sit forward in my seat. “What is your problem?” I sneer.
“You. You are my problem.”
“Me?” I ask, affronted. “What did I do?”
“Do you have something work related to talk to me about or not, Jim?”
I glare at her. “You’re very rude.”
“You’re very rich.”
“And?”
She shrugs.
“What does that mean?” I snap.
“Nothing.” She straightens her back. “If you don’t have anything work related to talk to me about, I’ll get going.”
I c
