Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Yes, Mr.—”
“Get in here.”
She walks in, looking annoyed. “Yes?”
“I—I—” What the fuck is wrong with me? “I—”
“Oh, shit. Are you having a stroke?”
“A what?”
“You’re stuttering. Isn’t that the first sign of a stroke? Should I call nine-one-one?”
“What? No! I’m not having a goddamn stroke. I called to tell you the reports for the West Side project need to be finalized. You’ll need to work through lunch.”
“I thought those weren’t due for another few weeks.”
“Are you questioning me, Miss Evans?” She should be. I’m losing it.
Her lips press together, and I bet she’s calling me a colorful array of names in her head. “Absolutely not, Mr. Monroe. Is there anything else?”
“Where the hell is my coffee?”
“Coming right up, sir.” She salutes and walks out. Fuuuck. Now I need to start working on the damn West Side project so I have a reason to keep her in my office over lunch.
Chapter fourteen
Fay
What the hell am I doing here? Money. He’s paying you a lot of money. Which I also need since Mindy’s contact last night didn’t pan out. At least Theo cleared the air about what happened last night. Hot, steamy finger sex. And about what’s not going to happen again. More hot, steamy finger sex. Which is a-okay with me. I’m not into jerks. Even if he’s sexy, built like a Greek god, and from what I felt, fully packing. A small delirious giggle escapes my lips as I press the K-cup into the machine and start it.
“What are you so smiley about?” I lift my head as Julie walks in. “Could it have anything to do with being fired and then rehired with a hefty salary increase?”
I open my mouth to reply, but my answer gets lodged in my throat. Mentioning that I got an inappropriate yet super-hot orgasm from my boss is probably not what I wanted traveling around the office. “I’m, um, good at what I do? And technically, I quit. He begged me to come back. Hence why I’m here.” Julie’s lips thin as she walks past me. My coffee finishes brewing. “Welp, see ya around!”
I walk out, annoyed by her comment. The workplace rumor mill is vicious. God knows what people are saying about why I’m back and got a raise. They probably think I’m sleeping with the boss. I wish I was sleeping with the boss but still. . .
“Hey, Fay?” I turn to see Amy flagging me down.
“Hey, Amy. What’s up?”
“Sorry to bother you, but I have a Fredrick Christoph on line two wanting to talk to you? It’s about the clothing Mr. Monroe personally ordered for you.”
Amy’s timing couldn’t be any worse. Tricia from Marketing and Kyle walk by, and Tricia’s brows rise to the ceiling before she and Kyle share a knowing look.
“Oh, you must have heard him wrong. They’re for him. I’ll just call him—”
“Except he said it’s specifically for you. From a private collection.” Goddammit, Amy! “Did you want me to—”
“Just send him through. I’ll take it. Thanks.” I hurry off, ignoring the whispering employees. Without knocking, I burst into Theo’s office, place his coffee in front of him, and stare him down.
“I’ll need to call you back.” He hangs up. “Is there something wrong?”
“The whole office knows I got a raise. Wanna know why they think I got it?”
“You earned it?”
“Yeah! By sleeping with or blackmailing you. But I’m gonna assume the sleeping with rumor is winning because Amy just stopped me to tell me some Fredrick guy has dresses for me to try on?”
“Give me the names.”
“What?”
“Give me the employees’ names so I can reprimand them.”
“I’m not a snitch.”
“Give me the names, and I’ll make sure no one mentions another thing to you.”
“No, because then they’re definitely going to think we’re sleeping together.”
He leans back in his chair wearing a damn smirk. “Exactly how so?”
“Because they’ll know that I came in here tattling, and if we were sleeping together, which we’re not, you would do anything for me which would be to fire them. Therefore, you can’t do it because then people will definitely think we’re sleeping together.”
“But we’re not sleeping together.”
“They don’t know that.”
“Miss Evans.”
“I bet it was Theresa—or Julie. I bet she has some cameras in here, spying on—”
“Miss Evans—”
“If she did, she’d know we only got as far as second—”
“Fay!”
“What?”
“Nobody knows but you and me. As long as we keep it that way, you’ll be fine.”
I exhale a deep sigh. “Fine, but you better be right.”
“I am. Now, if you’re done here, I need to call that client back.”
“Yeah. Done.” He barely dismisses me, picking up his phone again. I turn to leave when he calls me back. “Yes?”
“Anyone crosses the line, I expect you to inform me.” I can’t tell if he’s being sincere or if it’s his lack of patience for office bullshit. I nod and leave his office.