Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Mr. Cross has stock in the mortgage company that owns my house.”
“So, he threatened you?” I leaned forward. “Shouldn’t that be more of a reason for you to help me escape?”
“He mentioned you’d be dramatic when I let you down, too…”
Oh my god…
“Mr. Cross is a certified tyrant, sir,” I said. “And I would like you to consider me for the open positions.”
“I would like to not lose my house.” He shrugged. “He made it quite clear that I should not hire you, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going to.”
“Why didn’t you call and tell me this before I came all the way here?”
“He wanted me to give you a false sense of hope,” he said. “Something about you needing stress relief?”
I stormed out of the office without saying anything else.
Dave handed me a box of Kleenex when I returned to the town car.
I was tempted to tell him to take me home, but I couldn’t let Mr. Cross see that he’d made me this pissed.
And as much as I didn’t want to care about this company… I did. This company felt more like mine than his.
Still, this was no longer sustainable. And I knew it.
Everly…Can you talk me up to the HR department at your school this weekend?
I’m going to apply…
Everly
YES!
Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I focused my attention out the window, dreaming of a better career.
“Here you are, Miss Stone.” Dave held the door open when we returned to headquarters.
“Thank you, Dave.”
“Hold on.” He pressed his handkerchief against my face, and then he pulled some foam gray balls from his pocket. “You should squeeze these on your worst days. They help.”
I smiled even though it hurt.
Walking inside, I headed straight to my cubicle, but it wasn’t there.
There was a dusty brown “L” mark, as if its removal was making a statement.
As if I’d never existed.
“What happened to my spot?” I asked aloud.
No one answered.
“Hello?” I raised my voice. “What’s happened to my spot?”
“Mr. Cross had someone take it away half an hour ago,” someone whispered. “He said to tell you to come see him ASAP.”
“Fine.” I should’ve taken a walk first, but I didn’t bother.
When I reached the top floor, Mr. Cross was holding a tray of coffee.
“I was just thinking about you, Miss Stone.” He smiled. “I figured you might want some fresh coffee for whenever you returned from your therapy appointment.”
I gritted my teeth.
“How did it go, by the way?” he asked. “Are you feeling better?”
“I’m much worse.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he said. “Perhaps you need to appreciate what you have instead of complaining about it to strangers or trying to get away from me.”
“Everyone here wants to get the hell away from you,” I said. “Do you honestly think people are happy here?”
His smile faded, and he set the tray on a bookshelf.
“Thanks for taking my cubicle away, by the way,” I said. “I appreciate you removing my one place of refuge from your tyranny.”
“Okay, Miss Stone,” he said, “I need you to spoil the gist of our story right now.”
“What?” I asked. “Stop talking in metaphors.”
“How much longer do I have to put up with your smart-ass mouth?” He glared at me. “Better yet, do you honestly expect me to continue not doing anything about it?”
I swallowed, unsure of how to answer his questions.
“Surely you don’t think I’ll let your slippery little words continue without some severe consequences.” He trailed his thumb against my bottom lip. “I’m warning you—stop testing me.”
My brain stopped functioning under his touch.
“Can you do that?” he asked, his voice low.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t.”
“Excuse me?” He dropped his hand, stunned.
“You make it your personal mission to make me feel like I don’t really matter here, so if you can’t handle a few sarcastic words here or there, that’s on you.”
He clenched his jaw.
“It’s also a ‘boundary’ for me,” I said. “I get to talk to you how I want because you speak to me how you want.”
I felt heat radiate off him, but I was done being small around him.
“Anyway,” I said. “I’d appreciate it if you just continued acting like you don’t really see me or give a damn, so we can keep it moving.”
“I would if it were that easy.” He pushed me back, and the wall caught me just before his mouth did.
The kiss was deep and impatient, almost punishing, and it stole the breath from my lungs before I could decide whether I wanted to fight it. His hand slid into my hair, holding me in place, and for a moment I forgot every speech I’d rehearsed about boundaries.
He broke away first, his jaw tight.
“Bend over and grab the desk.”
I hesitated just long enough for his patience to snap.
His fingers closed around my wrist and he turned me around, guiding me forward until my palms pressed against the cool surface of the wood. The contrast between the cold desk and the heat of his body behind me made my breath hitch.