Page 57 of Bottles & Blades
“What do you want to do?”
I hand her back the tablet. “It’s not so much as want as what Ihaveto do.”
With that, I stride down the hall and push into the conference room.
One look has me grinding my teeth together in an effort to not punch the smug fucker right in the face, but I tamp down my rage and focus on doing what I do best?—
Protecting the people I care about.
That’s Chrissy and her best friend, Rory. That’s Marie and the rest of my team. That’s now…Tiff.
Maybe it’s insane to claim her so quickly.
All right, there’s nomaybeabout it.
I’ve known the girl all of two days, and I’m desperate to find a way to know her forever.
Insane, certainly.
But I’ve survived this long, become this successful by following my instincts.
And they’re telling me to stick close to Tiff, to ferret out every secret and desire and smile…so I’m riding this through.
I’m just going to do itafterI deal with the asshole currently sprawled in the chair at the head of my goddamned conference table like he owns the fucking place.
It’s a move designed to fuck with me, I’m damned sure of that.
I just don’t care.
This man is worse than a pile of dog shit on the sidewalk that someone didn’t pick up.
He opens his mouth, but I speak first.
“I invited you here in good faith, my intention being to negotiate the TIs.” TIs being tenant improvements—the changes and repairs that are in my distributor’s lease, specifically improvements to the heating and air conditioning systems they need in order to produce what I need them to produce. They’re included in the contract and the landlord is supposed to complete them to my distributor’s specifications.
Wanna guess if that happened?
Oh, repairs were made, changes undergone, but are they to the proper specifications?
Of fucking course not.
And when my distributor—a small, locally owned corporation that’s just in the beginning stages of growth—attempted the make that right, he blew them off.
Three times.
Which means their shipment was late, and Marie went searching and…
This fucking shit.
“I completed the TIs.”
“I wasn’t fucking done talking,” I growl stopping in front of him, bending low, my face an inch from his. “I said that’s why I invited you here, but that plan has changed.”
He doesn’t retreat, but a thread of fear slides through his eyes.
Good.
Fuckingasshole.
