“I’m worried about you, Charlotte,” Hastings tells me in a hushed voice. He takes off his reading glasses and sets them on his desk, looking at me as though he feels sorry for me.
I knew this was coming when I walked in here this morning. He was too busy to meet with me yesterday by the time I left the meeting with Logan. So now I’m sitting in his office trying hard not to be offended, while also trying to project the confidence that I can do this. “I think that Logan is doing you a disservice, putting that much on your plate so soon.”
“I’ll be okay,” I say confidently, flashing an easy smile. Though I’m trying to seem upbeat, I’m not at all. If the shock and self-consciousness about all this shit with the buyout and Logan weren’t enough, I got into a nasty fight with Ian last night. He showed up without warning on my doorstep, demanding that I let him in. I shoved his box out there for him to take, but that’s not what he wanted. He was looking to actually stay over.
I told him that he no longer lived with me, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He tried to push his way in, but I slammed the door in his face. He has a key, which sucks. But I had a bolt. So he was fucked. Last night, anyway, since today’s a different story and in the pit of my stomach I know this is going to be an issue. I called the landlord and asked him to change the locks. I’m just praying they get it done in time before that asshole locks me out.
I spent the rest of the night laying in bed, hating Ian and this shit position I’m in. The only other thing I could concentrate on was how Logan wanted me yesterday. All I could do was think about how hot Logan looked in the boardroom, how sexy he made me feel. I am shocked at the sudden turn of events with him taking over the company and naming me head sales rep, but I'm convinced he's up to something.
He’s the cat, and I’m the mouse.
I don’t care what Logan’s plans are, I think to myself angrily. I’ll show him that I’m not some toy to be played with on a whim. Yesterday I was caught off guard and shocked. Today’s a new day.
Thinking about the way Logan looked at me yesterday in the boardroom causes my blood to heat with desire. It pisses me off that I’m turned on by a man who’s toying with me. What's worse is that my job is at stake. My heart clenches, but rather than be worried and upset, I hold onto the anger. Without realizing it, I find myself scowling at Hastings in irritation.
Hastings frowns at me, his bushy eyebrows drawing together. “You’re glaring at me, Charlotte, did I offend you?”
“Oh, no, Mr. Hastings,” I say, quickly morphing my scowl into a smile. “I’m just thinking about how I’m going to go about preparing for a successful launch with the resources I have at my disposal.”
Goddamnit, Logan.
Before Hastings can respond, there’s a knock at the door. I turn to see Eva poking her head in the doorway. She looks the consummate professional today with her hair in an elegant French twist and dressed in a crisp white pantsuit that makes me want to go shopping. “Is it alright if I come in?” she asks sweetly.
Hastings nods, “I think we’re done here?” he says although he’s asking me. I nod with a tight smile.
Eva walks in with a bright smile. “Good morning, Mr. Hastings. You’re looking mighty handsome today.”
Mr. Hastings chuckles, his cheeks turning a rosy red, and waves his hand dismissively. “Oh stop it, Eva. How are you enjoying the merger?”
“It’s going better than I expected,” Eva replies, giving me a smile. “It doesn’t hurt when you have such an awesome boss to help smooth things out with the new one.” She bats her eyelashes, and Mr. Hastings turns redder.
I shake my head. Eva must want something from Hastings, and knowing her, she's most likely going to get it.
The two talk about business matters for a moment. Specifically, the new building, commuting, and Hastings gives her a bullet list of things to do to get everything up and running smoothly. Meanwhile, all I can think about is how I’m going to handle Logan. I have no fucking clue. As I come to that conclusion, Eva turns her gaze on me. “Ready for lunch?”
“What’s on your mind, girlie?” Eva asks as she dips a salty french fry in a pile of ketchup. “I can tell something’s been bothering you.”
For lunch, we’ve settled on an upscale cafe down the street from our new workplace. We’re seated in the middle of the cafe in a small two-person booth. Between the two of us we're enjoying two big burgers, fries, a vanilla shake and a diet Coke. It’s a pretty swanky restaurant, with gleaming marble floors, gold-plated trim and crown molding. I love the burgundy and white color scheme, and the ambience is relaxed.
Too bad I’m a swirling canopy of emotions and can’t calm down and enjoy it.
Should I tell her? I wonder. And would she even believe me?