Sordid

“I said,” she pauses for emphasis, “I’m a temp here. I want to learn. So perhaps you should start teaching.” She cocks her head to the left in defiance.

I stand and make swift work of moving in front of her. “You want to learn? What do you want me to teach you?” We’re so close, I can feel her exhale of breath; I can smell her intoxicating scent. She smells like jasmine, exotic and heady. Like a siren leading me to my ruin. She better leave now, or I can’t be held responsible for what I want to do.

“I, um, you should start by telling me what the expectations of the job entail,” she mumbles, clearly affected by my proximity.

“Your first lesson is not to defy me.” I lean in, needing her to leave, but wanting her to stay. My blood pumps furiously in my chest. I’m within inches of her mouth when she shakes her head once, pulling herself out of whatever trance she went into. She rights herself and then turns from me, walks toward the door, and slams it as she leaves.

Crossing the room, I grab a tumbler and pour myself a Scotch. That was too fucking close. I almost kissed her right here in the middle of my fucking office.

Idiot.

I need to get rid of her. I need her gone.

God fucking damn it.

The phone rings and I stalk back over to my desk. “Lancaster here.”

“Grant.” My lawyer’s voice makes my back go ramrod straight. I’ve been waiting for this call.

“Lawrence. Have you been able to eradicate the thorn in my side?”

“Unfortunately, no, not yet. She screwed you big time. I’m not sure how exactly you got in this position, but I’ll look into some other angles and get back to you.”

I slam the phone into the cradle. The sound vibrates off the walls. That’s not what I want to hear. The uncertainty of my company, my future, the life of my daughter are all hanging in the balance, and right now I’m helpless. I take another swig and place the glass down.

The liquid burns my throat. I shouldn’t be drinking, but the hotel business isn’t like most businesses. Being the boss has its perks. Grabbing the phone, I hit the intercom button.

“Ms. Miller, in my office now.” I don’t really need her, but I have this sick perverse need to torture myself and her. If I have to be miserable with her in my hotel, so should she.

Within a few seconds, she enters my office. Her chest heaves. The fabric of her blouse pulls tightly over her breasts. It’s only been a short time since she was in here last, but I swear her shirt got tighter. How is that possible?

“You rang.” She smiles, but regardless of the false smile, I recognize the disdain in her voice, and it infuriates me. So, being the dick I am, I can’t help but goad her.

“Do you have the answers I need?” I bite out, fully aware there’s no way in goddamn hell she could actually have the answers. “Most assistants interested in keeping their jobs would have been in here already.” It’s only been ten minutes since she was last in here.

She thrusts the file down in front of me. Pricing included. “Don’t entertain any preconceived notion of my abilities simply because you’ve been between my legs,” she hisses.

I can’t find words to respond before she turns, dismissing me and walking out the door once more.

Well, that went well.





That piece of shit.

He wants me to fail, and why? So he can fire me? No. He can fire me regardless. He’s the kind of bastard who just wants to make me miserable. He wants to toy with me. What the fuck was that? He was inches away from me. For a second I thought he was going to kiss me, but then, like every other time, the massive freeze descended.

No matter what I told Lynn, I can’t lie to myself. My work environment is actually horrific, and to make matters worse, I have to stay. I’m completely out of options. I can’t even call Olivia again and beg for help. She has her own problems. She just got out of rehab, and she’s starting her own company. I haven’t told her yet that I’m working for her boyfriend’s enemy, but I’m not going to. She doesn’t need any more drama in her life. Nor do I.

If I’m being honest, I don’t want this to be about her right now. Everything is always about her, and for once in my life, I have something that’s mine. It isn’t much, a lowly temp job, but still. I’m working on a big project. A project that can change the outcome of my future. Do a good job on this, and I’m set. Work hard enough, and maybe I can convince Mr. Lancaster to give me a recommendation. Then I can get a better paying job with the prestige that would make my family proud.

Bonus . . . he’ll finally be in my past.

It will take every ounce of strength and determination for me to make it the next few weeks here. Hell, the next few days. For all I know, Grant Lancaster is on the phone with the temp agency right now, serving me my walking papers. If he’s not, it’s a modern miracle, and I need to work extra hard to stop mouthing off when he annoys me. I need to bite my tongue, which is something I’ve never been good at. But I can at least try. I have to try.

Sitting back, I try to anticipate what he’ll ask for next. I recollect my endless hours of school work and imagine that after he has the figures and budgets for the competition’s marketing campaigns, he’s going to want to beat them. He’s going to want me to come up with better ideas, something more cutting edge to make The L shine. So that’s what I’m going to do.

I fire up my computer and start my research. The L could have a stellar release, but whatever is going on internally is causing the hype to falter, and we aren’t getting the press we need. With the opening looming we need to act and act now. It’s not too late to make The L kickoff successfully, and the next time he hollers at me, I’m going to wow him. I’m going to make myself indispensable to the team, and then he can’t get rid of me. I might not have wanted to work here at first, but now that I’m here, I refuse to fail. I don’t care how big an asshole he is. This job could be just what I need to make a name for myself for the future. That’s exactly what I’m going to do, make myself indispensable. I’ll finally be able to let out my breath and stop walking on eggshells.

Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do if I’m not fired. Make myself irreplaceable to him. How hard can that be?





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