Chapter 8 Sir Filthy Doggy

• Rachel's POV
• My head was pounding so hard I didn't notice my phone vibrating for a full minute despite it being right beside my hand.
• "Hello?" I answered, confusion coloring my tone as I saw Tyler's housekeeper was calling me, "Magda, has something happened?"
• I had left instructions with the house staff to report directly to Master Tyler as I would no longer be in residence. They didn't need to know the particulars of why I was gone. All of them were well-trained as house servants who tended to ensure their discretion matched their ability to avoid asking questions not related to their work.
• Work hard and silently was Tyler Wright's preference.
• "Madam Rachel, we have no hangover cure here."
• "I left the recipe with all the other house favorites. It's in the binder in the kitchen drawer beside the pantry."
• "No, no, I have never made it, Madam Rachel!"
• Magda was a sweet older woman. She reminded me of what a mother was meant to be like, and I found myself unable to be sharp with her.
• Gentling my tone, I said, "Can you get the binder, Magda?"
• I would coach her through making the cure this first time. I had a feeling Tyler was on the verge of driving the whole staff insane after a night of drinking. Alpha status aside, he acted worse than a baby when he was sick or in pain.
• "I can get it. I have it now."
• I could hear her flipping pages until she was able to find the right recipe. She made a sound of distress as a crashing noise echoed on her side of the line.
• "Magda?"
• "Madam, there are many steps to this. Master Tyler is not well. Will you please---"
• "Get over here. Now."
• I straightened in response to the sound of Tyler's angry voice. He was pissed off.
• In the past, I had handmade his hangover cure with fresh herbs from my home garden or bought hand-picked from the farmer's market. I had ground everything with my own two hands and he had acted as if it was a worthless drink to be slung back when necessary.
• Now he wanted to order me home to make it for him?
• I didn't think so.
• "No, Tyler. I don't need to come to the house for a hangover remedy."
• "Yours is the best and I need one. You have to come make it."
• "No, Tyler, I don't! That is why I left the recipe there."
• I felt as if I were explaining this to an angry child rather than an angry rejected mate. Tyler had scared me when he was angry in the past. Now all I felt was annoyance he was trying to boss me around as if I were his housekeeper rather than Magda.
• "Didn't you forget something here?"
• "Yes," I snapped, "My rejection. Are you offering it to me this morning? I'll be glad to come brew you a cup of hangover tea in exchange for your side of the rejection ceremony."
• "What about the IOU for $500,000 you gave me three years ago?"
• I shut my mouth abruptly at the reminder.
• Tyler could be a bastard when angry or hurting, too. I always forgot how mean he got until the next hangover was on him. I supposed my mind tried to shield me from his cruelty by blocking his behavior out from one time to the next.
• Selective amnesia had been the best way for me to cope with the last three years of my life.
• Clearing my throat, I tried to regain control of the conversation, "I can talk Magda through making it over the phone. I don't do anything special or extra, Tyler."
• "Your debt is still waiting here along with my headache. You either come make my remedy or prove my father right: you slept with me for money the same as any street whore and you have no intention of ever repaying the debt."
• I remembered standing in front of Tyler and his father three years previously.
• My brother Ethan had been only hours away from being killed; my only chance to save him was to get my newfound mate to pay off the gambling debts our father had wracked up.
• I hadn't wanted to be in their offices asking for money.
• All I had wanted was to save my little brother from certain death.
• John Wright had looked down his nose at me with so much contempt I had wanted to crawl away to hide in a hole. All my usual enthusiasm for life had been crushed underneath his disdain.
• I had thought my mate was reacting to his father's mood.
• Tyler had proven me wrong in the next weeks after he'd given me the check I'd asked for to save Ethan.
• I remembered the first weeks of our mating vividly. Tyler rarely spoke to me except to instruct me how to do something for him to make him happy.
• We had sex every night no matter whether it hurt me or I wanted to be left alone. Tyler insisted I give him my body in exchange for the IOU I had written out for the $500,000 ransom money. I gave in to him since I felt I owed him.
• I still owed him---and this was his way of reminding me I always would owe him until I paid him back all five hundred thousand of those dollars.
• "I'll be there soon."
• "Sir!" he spat at me from his side of the line.
• "What?" I asked, trying to force away the sense of dread coming over me at the thought of going back to the house I'd spent three years trying to escape.
• "If you're going to insist you want a rejection, you can call me 'sir' when you address me. I require it from all my employees."
• I gasped in a combination of shock and anger, "You think I'm going to be your employee!?"
• "I know I paid you half a million dollars and you haven't come close to working it off. You're my highest paid employee right now. Get here soon."
• "Yes, Sir," I said to him before hanging up the phone.
• I thought if he gave me one more order I would wind up murdering him on my arrival to the house.
• Straightening my appearance before gathering my handbag, I nodded at my reflection before heading out to the living room.
• I would need to tell Bella where I was going. I had my first day of work looming ahead of me only after dealing with Tyler.
• "I will see you at work tonight. I have a change of clothes with me just in case. I need to go fix a hangover cure."
• Bella looked away from her show, tears streaming down her face, "What? Why can't you make it here?"
• "It isn't for me. Why are you crying?"
• Bella took a tissue from the box on the table and wiped at her face. She pointed to the screen and I suppressed a groan: she put way too much energy into her television shows.
• "Did the girl choose the vampire or the werewolf?"
• I tried to inject some humor into my tone. It wasn't Bella's fault I was in a bad mood or over my head in debt to Tyler.
• "Neither," Bella wailed, "She took a potion which put her into a sleep for a hundred years!"
• I wished I could take something to sleep for a hundred years. Knowing my luck, Tyler Wright would just take the same potion so he would be there to torment me when I woke up.
• "That's terrible! Are you going to be okay? I could try to get back as soon as I finished the tea."
• I wanted her to say she needed me to come home as soon as possible. Bella would be the perfect excuse to get away from Tyler quickly.
• "Oh, I'll be okay! I have seven more episodes in this season. If you're not making hangover tea here, where are you going?"
• "I'm going to make it for the 'filthy dog' who is now insisting I call him 'sir' as I am his employee if I'm not his mate."
• Bella screeched in outrage, "You should spike it with something awful! It would serve him right for being such a filthy doggy!"
• I grinned at her reaction; I knew I could count on Bella understanding.
• "See you at work tonight. I'm going to go treat Sir Filthy Doggy!"