HOPE
I've crossed paths with plenty of assholes, but the guy sitting in front of me? He's in a league of his own—the CEO of Assholes Enterprises.
Maybe it's the sleazy grin that never quite reaches his eyes, or the way he keeps smoothing back his over-gelled hair like he's auditioning for a low-budget crime drama.
But what really seals it is the way he looks at me—like I'm a five-star meal and he's been starving his whole life.
Disgusting.
"Wearing a hoodie and sweatpants for a date is not ideal, but then…"
"This is not a date, Mr. Alaric. You literally threatened me to sit here with you, so please, cut to the chase."
"Fair enough. You probably figured out why we're here."
"I'm not using magic or witchcraft to figure out why a vampire asked me to dinner," I say firmly. "Not negotiable, Mr. Alaric, so I'll say it again—cut to the chase."