Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I slammed my phone down and made a note to Cynthia to send Mrs. Lakeson an apology basket of whatever the fuck she liked as soon as Cynthia was back.
The fact that so far she would only have to send one was proof of how well Eddie and I worked together.
Mrs. Lakeson, to her credit, worked quickly.
The phone at the paralegal desk rang within two minutes, and then a moment after that, the squeaky one was gone. It took another twenty minutes for Eddie to be back where she belonged.
She had done it to bait me, and it fucking worked.
“Ms. Carmichael.” I stretched my arm out to motion to the interior of my office. “A moment.”
She marched over the threshold, arms crossed over her chest. Her expression carved out of stone. The very definition of resting bitch face.
She was pissed. Understood.
I closed the door and approached my desk.
She looked at me for only a moment with narrowed eyes before turning and swinging the door open.
Okay, I was becoming less understanding.
Without saying a word, I pivoted and, keeping my gaze on her, decisively slammed the door shut. Then I locked it.
I raised my eyebrow. Clearly she was angry. I would let her speak her mind first.
Then I would bend her over this desk and remind her who she answered to.
My resolution to not indulge in such risky behavior at the office again immediately forgotten in the face of her disobedient attitude.
“Well, you called?” she asked, tapping her foot on the carpet.
“You look like you have something to say, and so do I. You have the floor.”
“Since you’ve made it impossible for me to work elsewhere and keep my job, I wanted to make a few things clear,” she said, standing tall, ready to make her case.
I imagined just for a moment that this was how she would look in front of a judge and jury, ready to make her opening arguments. She was going to be a force to be reckoned with, and I couldn’t wait to behold it—when her icy gaze was lasered in on someone else.
“By all means.” I motioned to the chair in front of my desk.
She looked at it for a moment and then stayed where she was. Her arms still tightly crossed over her chest. Her body language screaming that she was closed off to me completely.
“Fine.” She took a breath and started her statement. “What happened last night will never happen again. Never. If I have to work for you, fine, I will work for you, but that is it. You will never touch me again. I hate you. I hate men like you. I hate that you think that you can just pull rank and decide where I work and how I spend my time. I hate that you broke into my home, dragged me out of there, and put me somewhere more convenient for you to fuck, as if my purpose in life is to serve your cock.”
I clenched my jaw, not liking what she was implying but enjoying the mental image of her on her knees serving my cock.
Still, I let her continue.
“You say over and over that’s not why you’re doing it, but what else could it possibly be? This professional relationship may have gotten started on the wrong foot. Fine, I’ll take responsibility for that one.”
She admitted partial guilt, a rookie mistake.
“But all of that ends now. You do not own me. From this point forward, I work for you, but that is it.”
“Are you done?” I asked, leaning back into my leather seat.
I looked her up and down and wondered if she knew she had started off wrapped around herself to seem small, but by the time she was done, her feet were shoulder-width apart, her hands on her hips and her chest pushed forward.
In the span of only a few moments, she went from meek and closed off to a classic power pose. Damn, she was going to make a fine attorney one day.
“I am,” she said. “I should get back to work.”
“No, you had your turn, and I listened. Now you’ll hear me. I don’t care if you hate me. In fact, I encourage it because anger gets things done. You can hate me all you want as long as you take that energy and channel it into your work. And you don’t want me to touch you anymore? That’s absolutely fine. You will regret those words, but I swear I will never lay a finger on you again—unless you beg for it. But do not mistake my generosity for some misguided, lecherous intent.”
She made a motion like she was going to speak again, and I raised my hand to stop her.
“No, you had the floor, you said your piece, now it’s my turn. You will stay in that apartment. Not because I want to fuck you but because it’s safe. I don’t know if you just haven’t been paying attention to your work or if you are a little slower when it comes to common sense, but we are working on bringing down an extremely dangerous mafia organization. There is a reason I have only one paralegal working on this, and I’m not willing to bring on another. Do you think it’s a coincidence that my secretary is on vacation, and I didn’t get a temp at that desk?”