Chapter 20 Not Just a Ride
Chapter 20 Not Just a Ride
88
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“I’m six–foot–two. That disqualifies me from flying fighter jets. The military has strict height limits, but commercial airlines are a bit more lenient. I’m technically over the standard, but it’s still acceptable.”
“I see…” Anneliese nodded, and to her surprise, he turned to look at her. “Anything else you want to know?” he asked.
She choked a little. The way he said that–it almost sounded like she was eager to learn about him, like he was offering up answers to any question she could think of.
If someone overheard this, they’d think they were on a date.
She gave a dry little laugh. “Well, Meatloaf seems to really like you.”
She shot the dog a resentful glare.
Ever since Jonathan got in the car, Meatloaf had turned its back completely to her. It’d cozied up at Jonathan’s feet, shamelessly rubbing against him like some adoring lapdog.
They’d run through multiple alleys, and the dog was filthy. The pristine white wool carpet of the Bentley was already ruined. At this point, Anneliese had given up caring. It was like having so many fleas that one more didn’t even itch.
“Did Meatloaf bash its head itself?”
The man’s deep voice rumbled beside her like a cello string being unexpectedly plucked. It startled her.
Great, she thought. Another trap question. One wave of interrogation after another.
Meatloaf’s head had been split open by Lenora and was still bandaged. Its fur had been shaved to stitch the wound. Jonathan’s phrasing only made it reek of sarcasm.
Anneliese gave a small laugh. “If I said it fell on its own, would you believe me?”
“I have reasonable suspicion that you’re abusing animals,” Jonathan commented, pulling out his phone and tapping the screen with long, slender fingers. “I’ve got the animal protection agency’s number right here.”
Zion, still driving up front, nearly dropped the steering wheel.
I’d believe it any day if someone tells me Boss clubbed a dog. But calling the animal protection agency?
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11:33 Fri, Sep 5
Chapter 20 Not Just a Ride
88
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That’s rich. Weren’t you the same guy who blew a rabbit’s brains out at the hunting range last month?
Unfortunately, the gorgeous woman beside him clearly believed it.
Panicked, Anneliese leaned over and grabbed Jonathan’s sleeve. “No, no, no! I swear I didn’t hurt it! Please believe me, Mr. Fullbuster–look at me. Do I look like someone who’s got it better than the dog?”
Honestly, she looked worse.
Meatloaf’s head had been properly treated, but her wound was scabbing over, raw and visible. There was still a clear handprint on her cheek, and her pants were torn at the knee, the gash beneath faintly bleeding through.
Jonathan’s gaze swept over her once more, finally landing on the hand clutching his suit sleeve.
She quickly let go, but her fair, tender fingertips had crumpled the crisp edge of his blazer like a kitten pawing at him–not too hard, but definitely there.
He looked up again, eyes still skeptical. “Appearances can be deceiving.”
Anneliese sighed and gave up. “Okay, fine. I got into it with some family members. My sister- in–law hit Meatloaf.”
Jonathan’s gaze darkened, and Zion, gripping the wheel, almost swerved. Holy hell. She’s married?I just heard something I definitely wasn’t supposed to.
The car jolted sideways, and Anneliese, caught off guard, slammed into the window.
Jonathan reached over and grabbed her wrist, pulling her upright again without even looking. “Calcium deficiency?”
Zion swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll start taking calcium supplements. Sorry about that, uh… madam?”
He figured, as a responsible assistant, he should at least remind his boss that the woman was married.
Anneliese felt the awkwardness instantly. She had once liked being called Mrs. Shaw. But now that she was in the middle of divorcing Zacharias, that title felt like a cruel joke.
“Hi. I’m Anneliese Claude. You can call me Ms. Claude,” she said, voice calm but firm.
Zion forced a smile and clutched the steering wheel like a lifeline. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Claude. I’m Zion Harland.”
2/3
11:33 Fri, Sep 5
88
Chapter 20 Not Just a Ride
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Internally, though, he was screaming. Oh sh*t! She doesn’t want to be called ‘madam‘! This is textbook emotional mutual interest–scandal–level stuff. There’s no saving this now!
“Take care of that wound,” Jonathan said flatly, casting a pointed look at Zion to shut him up. He leaned forward and retrieved a first–aid kit, handing it to Anneliese. “Need help?”
“No, I’ve got it. Thank you.” She quickly accepted the kit. Ever since Meatloaf got hurt, she’d been so busy running around that she hadn’t even tended to her injuries.
As she opened the kit, she suddenly looked up at Jonathan. “Can I charge my phone somewhere?”
Jonathan held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
