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“And furthermore…” He allows a few beats to pass by, and I’m hanging on to every single one of them when he spits out, “Stop flirting with the staff.”
My face skews even further because I don’t bother anyone while I’m here. It’s actually the opposite, and the guys don’t flirt with me.
They bug me.
“I don’t?—”
“Every time I turn around, you have one of the guys lingering around the front desk, and I need that for customers. This isn’t a dating site, Opie.” I open my mouth to protest his comments and the fact that he called me by the wrong name again, but he barges right back in with, “And I don’t want to hear fucking excuses.”
“Mr. Stoll, they’re not excuses. I’m not?—”
“I thought your name was Olivia,” he cuts in with even deeper seated brows, and I’m confused. If he pays so much attention to what I do, he’s had to have heard the guys call me Liv at least a million times. “I hired a girl named Olivia.”
“No, you hired a girl named Olive. My name is Olive, aka Liv.”
He cuts into the air with his hand like it doesn’t matter, even though he was the one who mentioned it. “Whatever. I need you to focus on work and not your social life. I run a business here, and there’s plenty of other people that will gladly?—”
“I do focus on work while I’m here.” I point at my chest, feeling my temper start to ignite because I’ve never given him a reason to believe I’m some stupid blonde who only knows how to work my cell phone. “I’m the reason your revenue has gone up ten percent, and I’ve only been here four months.”
“You don’t do my numbers,” he leers, sounding offended that I’d even mention it. “You don’t know anything about?—”
“But I accept payments, and I’ve done my own calculations.” I cross my own arms along my chest like a shield. “I took economics and accounting.”
“What, this semester in school?” He pushes off the desk and rises to his full height, still glaring down at me like I’m the most annoying thing he’s dealt with today. “I run this fucking show,” he says matter-of-factly when I don’t answer quickly enough. “And you’re disposable. So, don’t think for a second that I’m gonna let some little blonde flaunt her ass around my guys and think I’m gonna look the other way.”
“I don’t flaunt?—”
“These men are too old for you.”
Is he fucking serious? I just turned Miles down for an all-night fuckfest, and he wants me to stop my alleged flirting?
And I could mention that. But I’d have to be a rat first.
Besides, Miles is full of shit. He just likes to mess with me.
“I can assure you,” I reply evenly and slowly because being accused of things I’m not doing is starting to grind on my nerves. “I’m not doing anything that would be considered sexual harassment or inappropriate in the workplace. I might be young, but?—”
“Are you even allowed to work here?”
“What?”
“There has to be some law.” His green eyes skate down the front of my body at a slow and agonizing pace, causing me to tense because he’s never done that before. “You’re a kid.”
And moment gone.
“Hold on,” I leer, attempting to keep a handle on my rising temper. “I’m not under twenty-one. And you’re not my daddy, Mr. Stoll, so stop trying to look out for my best interests and let me work.”
“Apparently, I am since we’re dating now.”
I look heavenward, definitely regretting my decision of how to get rid of my mother’s bitching because Hudson evidently takes everything seriously. “I can assure you that I don’t want to. You have the personality of a rock, and I’d like to save myself from the whiplash.”
“You might need some to gain a brain cell of sense.”
“Graduated pretty high in my class and didn’t need any help from any bikers that were born in the last century, but I’ll keep that in mind.” My eyes remain locked on the stained white ceiling tiles, but I see him lock up like he’s about to hulk out on me or something.
“Find another job, Olivia. You’re fired.”
Shit.
