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“Frankly, I’m surprised. A few weeks ago, you were talking about it, never happening again.”
“I talked to someone,” I admit.
“And that’s it?” he fishes.
“Can we get down to business? Have you thought about what we discussed yesterday?”
“Yes. I talked to Emily, and she agrees that we probably will have a fight on our hands.”
“I have more ammunition.”
“With Paul?”
“Who else? I came to the office, and when I was on my way out with Olivia, Paul walked out of the kitchen. When I asked how he was doing, he said, fuck you.”
“Did you provoke him?”
“Not at all. Olivia is my witness.”
Zane pauses, then asks, “Why were you leaving with her?”
I hesitate to answer, and his mouth drops open. “You fucked her, didn’t you? Shit, I knew there was something there!”
“It’s not like that,” I defend. “I like her very much.”
“You’re also technically her boss. Did you realize that when you took her to bed?”
“Technically, it was her bed.”
“Right. I just noticed that you’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday.”
“Is this going to be a problem?”
“Not unless you make it one. Keep your personal out of the office. I don’t want any more turmoil than we already have.”
“No one knows about the turmoil. I told you I have two more interviews next week. We can decide on whom to bring in after that.”
“Fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a conference call in six minutes, and I need to drain the snake and get a cup of coffee.”
Before I could say anything, he ducks into his bathroom, and I left. I spent the morning semi-erect, thinking about the night before and our shower this morning. Olivia was a wildcat in bed. Her polite demeanor did not translate when it came to sex. She was demanding and adventurous—the exact opposite of Cassie, but I liked it very much.
I can’t stop thinking about her, and when it’s noon, I go to see if she wants to have lunch together. As usual, her head is buried in notes, and she is furiously typing on her laptop. I tap on the glass and seductively lick my lips before I push the door open.
“Don’t do that,” she warns.
“Do what?” I smirk.
“Lucian.”
“Okay, do you want to get some lunch?”
“Can’t. I need to finish this stuff.” She stops to check her notes, and Paul practically plows me over barging into her office. I grab his shirt before he can get too far,
“You can say excuse me,” I say flatly.
“Fuck off; I have work to do.”
My anger bubbles just below the surface, and I want to haul off and let him know that I’m his boss, but I don’t. If we're going to get rid of him for acting out, I can’t alert him to his behavior.
