Aspiring Nobody--Dark Billionaire Romance

Chapter 2 Three's a crowd

ERIN'S POV

His tanned arm plunges inside the cardboard box and he pulls out a thick stack of papers, dropping them on the desk. "These are why you're here. I need you to go through this box of statements, and then highlight every deposit that goes into an account named Perry enterprises. Nothing more... do you think you can do that?"

"I'm no Steve Hawkins, but I'm sure I can manage that... I have a favor to ask."

He rests back on the edge of the desk. "I don't normally do favors unless I get something in return."

Of course he doesn't. What was I thinking? But I do my best not to snap at him since my period is due and I am more sensitive than normal. "Well, maybe favor is the wrong word... I'd just rather you not tell my brother Ryan that I'm working for you."

He taps his fingers against the desk. "How old are you?"

"20."

"Which makes you an adult."

"Yes. I'm aware. But Ryan can be--"

"Not my problem." He pushes up from the desk and walks for the door.

One hour later, and I am highlighting—alone. This whole situation is extremely uncomfortable and making me anxious. I've spent more time listening to the banging noises coming from upstairs and looking over my shoulder than looking at the statements. I can't help it. Every time I hear a noise, I get distracted and wonder what's going on upstairs. Even now, the sound of the floorboards creaking has me stiffening in the chair, not sure what to expect. Within seconds, I can hear his heavy steps coming along the hall.

"Got much done?" He asks.

I turn around to face him. "Not really."

He nods, "No. I expect it'll take two weeks to get through the boxes." His aggressive tone is now calm. Even so, it doesn't put me at ease, nor does the prospect of having to endure his company for two weeks. "Boxes?"

"That's right," he says. "Only I don't have two weeks. I need them done in one." He walks to the corner of the room, grabs the second chair, and pulls it to the end of the desk.

I almost groan in protest, until a tap on the door has me spinning around and taking in the pretty blonde dressed in black gym clothes. She looks like a personal trainer or someone about to hit the gym.

He sighs. "What is it, Lana?"

She pulls her ponytail over her shoulder, looking intimidated by his cool response. "I thought I'd come say bye before I leave."

"Thank you but that was unnecessary." He sits back. "I told you I'd be working, and to show yourself out."

Her cheeks flush red before her eyes dart to me. "I guess I just wanted to double check that we're still good for next Thursday?"

He shrugs. "That depends on my schedule."

She nods. "I wasn't aware you had someone down here."

"Yes, this is Erin. She's working with me for the next two weeks."

"Doing what?"

He holds up a handful of statements. "Sorting through these."

She glares between him and me. "You expect to me believe that?"

Styles shrugs and then grins. "I'm not asking you to believe anything. I'm just stating facts."

The blonde rolls her eyes before she pivots and storms away. I turn back to the statements and Styles chuckles to himself as he grabs a highlighter ready to get to work. Talk about uncomfortable. I'm not sure what they were doing upstairs, but I knew I heard a woman.  Through the corner of my eye, I watch him crack his knuckles before refocusing on the statements in front of him.

"So, tell me something about yourself, Miss Edberg?"

Without looking at him, I hit the highlighter against my chin and stare at the columns in front of me. "I've recently moved to Sydney to attend university where I'm studying veterinary science."

He grabs the stack of papers I've looked over and then runs his finger down the columns I've highlighted. "You've highlighted the wrong account. At this rate, it'll take you a week to get through one box. And there's no guaranteeing it won't be full of mistakes. Maybe it's time you consider your visions not as good as you think, Miss Edberg?"

The highlighter slips through my fingers, hitting the glass table. "You don't think I know what you're doing?"

He shrugs. "What am I doing?"

I'm the one now drawing in the breath of anger and frustration. "You're trying to make me feel guilty about your car. Fact is, you almost run me down today. I don't hear you apologizing for that. Instead, you... you keep implying that I'm the one at fault! That I'm visually impaired or something."

He sits back in his chair. "Well, I'm sorry that I almost hit you. But if you hadn't been on the road, it never would have happened and I wouldn't have a damaged car, am I right or am I right?"

At this point I am furious but containing it well. "So it's my fault. I should be paying you for the damages, is that it?"

He smirks. "Miss Edberg, I'm not interested in ten-dollar instalments for the next five years."

That's it!

The chair scrapes against the floor as I stand. As broke as I am, I refuse to endure another second with this man! I write my details on the bottom of the bank statement and then toss it at his bewildered face. "Get in touch with me when you find out the cost of repairing your car. Not that I believe I am at fault. But I'll pay for half the damages, just to shut you up! But as far as me working for you, I quit! I'd rather hike my dress up at the nearest intersection than sit down here another second with you!"