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She picked up her pen. “Let me write that down. Three o’clock: time to think about how to be more considerate. Now, how long do you think that will take?”
I turned back into my office and closed the door firmly.
Mean boss wasn’t as easy as it sounded.
Chapter 28
Jennifer
(Three Days Later)
It had beenthree days since our conference room confrontation—three difficult days.
The week had been hectic, with Dennis calling meetings on the Cartwright group left and right.
I’d been assigned to look over everything we had assembled on them. The stack was enormous, given all the SEC reports they’d filed.
Meanwhile, I’d received the master index from Cindy to find the memos I’d been waiting all this time to uncover about Dad’s accident, but I hadn’t gotten the courage to retrieve them yet. Now that the truth was within my grasp, it frightened me. Dad’s death had led to a month of nightmare-filled nights I dreaded reliving.
I also hadn’t sent Hydra the information he’d been after. The no-man’s land of limbo was where I was stuck. If the memos exonerated Dennis, I’d betrayed him and the company. If the memos proved him guilty, I’d slept with Dad’s killer. The situation was lose-lose for me, and procrastination had taken over. If I didn’t know the truth yet, I couldn’t convict myself of either sin.
Last weekend had shown Dennis Benson to be the opposite of what my picture of him had been based on Mom’s accusations.
I exited my office for lunch, but retreated behind my door when I saw Dennis come out of Larry’s office. The flush in my cheeks would’ve been too obvious. Lunch could wait.
* * *
When I wasready to call an end to the day, Dennis was still stuck in his office with Jay Fisher. I hadn’t managed any alone time at all with him since the Monday Cartwright emergence broke.
My rule about avoiding each other at work had resulted in us both being horny and sharing a few late-night phone calls and text messages.
Dennis’s demeanor at work had been the mean boss I’d suggested times about ten, and it bothered me more each day—a lot more.
It might be the hell I’d condemned myself to, but that didn’t make me feel any better about it.
To brighten my mood, I pulled up last night’s texts on my phone.
ME: How about Saturday breakfast on the beach?
DENNIS: I know what I’m having
ME: What?
DENNIS: U
ME: And what do I get?
DENNIS: Do you like popsicles?
ME: Depends
DENNIS: On what?
ME: Warm or cold
DENNIS: Getting warmer right now
ME: Will it be big enough to be filling?
