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“I can see perfectly fine. You’re the ones who can’t fucking see that she’s pregnant.”
I sigh and close my eyes. But it’s not fast enough to miss the way The Tweedles look at me.
Like I’ve lost all value to them and their company.
Like I’m no longer worth keeping.
“Daphne. Let’s go.” Pasha helps—well, more like hauls—me to my feet and pulls my coat up over my arms. Once I’m snugly wrapped up in the wool, he grabs my bag. “Fucking assholes. Who the hell stops a pregnant woman from seeing her own damned doctor? You’re lucky I don’t sue the absolute shit out of your pathetic little enterprise.”
Keith’s mouth pops open in shock. No one tells Keith he’s not in charge of literally everything and everyone around him.
Todd, however, grabs his brother’s shoulder and holds him back. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Chekhov. Daphne, we will discuss the new terms of your employment when you return.”
I want to say something.
I want to save my job.
But Pasha doesn’t give me enough time to even process Todd’s words before he drags me out of the conference room, down the hall, and to the front door of the building.
“I can walk. I can walk!” I try to yank my elbow from his grasp, but he holds on tight.
“If that were true, you’d be in the car by now.” Pasha yanks the passenger door of his Charger opens and pushes at the small of my back. “Get in.”
He doesn’t buckle me in like usual. He doesn’t even wait for me to settle in to close the door for me. Instead, he marches around the front of the car to the driver’s side and leaves me to buckle myself in, shut the door, et cetera.
I mean, I get it. I hate being late to any appointment and he’s not alone in loathing my bosses. So I tell myself to relax and wait for him to peel out of the parking lot before I say anything. “Worried about being late?”
Pasha barks out a laugh. “Worried? Hell no. I’ll pay any penalty fee and hire any new doctor we need to. That’s not a problem.”
He doesn’t elaborate on what is the problem. “So…”
“The problem is your employer.”
I get that.
“And you.”
I whip my head around to stare at him. “What did I do?”
“It’s what you didn’t do, Daphne. You didn’t stand up for yourself.”
“What the hell was I supposed to do? I tried getting out of there, but they wouldn’t listen!”
“And that’s exactly my point. They need to respect you, your time, and your health. They won’t do that if you let them walk all over you.”
I sit back in my seat and glare out the window just so I don’t have to look at him. Of all the fucking nerve… “Do you respect your employees? Do you let them just walk out for their appointments?”
Pasha is silent for a moment. I’m pretty sure I hit a nerve with that—until he rubs his jaw and grips the steering wheel a bit tighter. “I do, actually. It’s in the handbook. I’ve had managers fired for withholding employees from personal appointments.”
“… Oh.”
I don’t know what else to say to that. Honestly, I expected him to be like every other corporate head honcho who doesn’t give a flying rat’s ass about their underlings.
“You’re pregnant,” he adds. “That trumps everything else.”
It’s my turn to ironically laugh. “About that. You had literally no right telling my employers about my pregnancy. So… thanks for that.”
“They didn’t know?” His knuckles turn white on the wheel. “You didn’t tell them because…?”
