Dad is a multi-billionaire with businesses and properties worldwide. He could have given Paul something else.
“Jia, we are not having this discussion again. You’re lucky I came up with this solution,” he scoffs.
I shake my head. “It’s bullshit,” I remark, no longer caring. I certainly don’t care that Paul is sitting right next to me. He didn’t care much for me either when he ended our relationship for nothing. I figured it was because he wanted to be free of me so he could screw around. So, no, I don’t care what I say.
“It’s final shit,” Dad counters.
His phone rings, cutting into the argument. He answers it and frowns.
“Give me one minute, get them to hold,” Dad says into the phone and hangs up. He returns his hard stare to me that softens when he looks at Paul. “You two sort this out. I have a call I have to take.”
My God… what am I supposed to do now?
Owning the building together automatically makes all the plans I had difficult. All those times I talked to Dad about what I wanted to do, and he said he’d think about it. It was all for nothing. I’m so mad at him for doing this.
I bolt up and head out, not bothering to look at Paul or Dad as I march out.
I get to the reception when I hear Paul calling me.
“Jia,” he calls, but I don’t stop. I keep walking. “Jia.”
He catches up to me and reaches for my arm, yanking me to a stop that makes me slam into his hard chest, which is so much harder than the last time I was pressed up against it.
I wrench my arm free and whirl around to face him, glowering at him.
“What?” I ask. There’s too much emotion in my tone. I sound as mad as that day when he hurt me so bad.
“That’s it?” he asks, giving me an easy grin.
His bright blue eyes bore into me. A lock of his hair floats over his eye, making him look more alluring.
He’s handsome. I would be lying if I said otherwise.
I just wish I didn’t think it.
“That’s it what?”
“You don’t want to talk about the building?”
“Not now.”
“It’s no big deal. We own a building together. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Good?” I study him as he looks me over. This conversation here is the most we’ve said to each other in six years, and so far, I’m hating it.
“Don’t you think it might give us a chance to get reacquainted?”
I narrow my eyes and wonder why the hell he would think that. “Are you for real?”
He leans slightly closer and quirks a brow. “Okay… so maybe no to the reacquainting, but as for the building, don’t you think we can figure out what to do with it?”
“Dad knew I had plans for that building. I wanted it for myself.”
The declaration seems to throw him.
“Well, I’m sure we can come to some agreement.”
Agreement? I don’t think so.