I straightened, steeling myself as the doors opened.
And I understood why the clerk had laughed at me when I’d asked which office. The sixtieth floor was Marek’s office, apparently.
Ahead stood two tall wooden doors and desks belonging to two assistants on either side of the doors, one man and one woman.
The woman looked up from her computer and nodded toward the doors. “Go in, Ms. Bradbury.”
I ran my hand down my clothes, smoothing them over before reaching up and tightening my ponytail.
But I’d already lost hope of salvaging my pride. Why hadn’t I at least convinced Jack to take me home for a change of clothes?
Grabbing hold of a vertical bar serving as a door handle, I pulled one of the big doors open and stepped in, immediately spotting Marek ahead of me, standing behind his desk.
“Ms. Bradbury.” He glanced up, one hand in his pocket as the other pushed keys on his computer. “Come in.”
His eyes left mine and dropped down my body, taking in my appearance, I would assume. Despite the air-conditioning chilling the room, I felt my thighs warm and heat pool in my stomach.
I squared my shoulders and approached his desk, trying to ignore the sudden powerless feeling.
Out of habit, I counted my steps in my head. One, two, three, fo—
But then I stopped in my tracks, catching something out of the corner of my eye.
I looked to my right, and my eyebrows shot up, seeing an oval conference table on the other side of a glass partition, filled with people. A lot of people.
Shit.
I swallowed, turning for the doors again. “I’ll wait.”
There was no way I was speaking to him with other people in the room.
“You wanted to see me,” he snapped. “Speak.”
I turned. “But you’re busy.”
“I’m always busy,” he retorted. “Get on with it.”
I groaned inwardly, understanding why he was so open to seeing me now.
A weight settled in my stomach, but I hid it as well as I could as I stepped toward his desk again.
I kept my voice low and gave him a fake close-lipped smile. “You’re enjoying seeing my dignity as a muddy puddle on the floor, aren’t you?”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and he locked eyes with me again. “I think that’s understandable after your behavior, don’t you?”
I averted my eyes, licking my lips.
I hated his gloating, but I couldn’t say he was wrong. I’d earned this dose of humility. No matter how vile his e-mail was, I should never have lowered myself to his level. The animosity would only hurt Christian.
“Mr. Marek.” I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “I had no right to say what I said,” I told him. “And I was very wrong. I know nothing about you or your son, and I lashed out.”
“Like a brat,” he added, staring at me with condescension.
Yes, like a brat.
I dropped my eyes, remembering how I’d never gotten angry as a child. When I started to become a woman, though, I raced to fury, throwing my racket when I’d fault or yelling when I was frustrated.
I’d been under stress at the time, I’d been caged, and I’d hated the loss of control. Now I had control, and I resented anything that threatened it.
Marek kept pushing into my space – the meeting the other day and then the e-mail today – but I knew my job.
I knew what I was doing. Why didn’t he see that?
I raised my eyes, staring back up at him. “I truly apologize.”
“Are you really sorry?” He grabbed a gray file folder and a pen as he rounded the desk. “Or are you more afraid you’ll lose your job?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re insinuating I’m apologizing out of fear?”
He cocked his head, telling me with his amused eyes that’s exactly what he was thinking.
“Mr. Marek,” I said in a firm voice, standing tall. “I don’t do things I don’t want to do. I don’t need to beg for anything or bow down to anyone. If I apologize, it’s because I know I did something wrong,” I affirmed. “It was a cruel thing to say, and you didn’t deserve it.”
A hint of a smile peeked out, but he hid it almost immediately. He let out a sigh, his eyes softening, and he turned around, making his way for the head of the conference table.
“Ms. Bradbury is Christian’s history teacher,” he pointed out to everyone at the table, looking back at me and grinning as he tossed the folder onto the table. “She doesn’t think much of me.”
I snorted, but I didn’t think anyone heard it.
The man seated to his left laughed. “You’re not alone, honey.” He tipped his chin at me.
Marek grabbed a piece of paper, balled it up, and threw it at him, only making the man laugh more.
The two seemed close, and I faltered at seeing Marek playful.
“I’m Jay, his brother.” The man rose from his chair and held out his hand.