Chapter Eleven
AS USUAL, MONDAY WAS BUSY with calls, meetings, and e-mails. Grayson was also back to his brooding, darker self. Not that it bothered me. In fact, it helped curb my mind and remind it to stop playing around when it came to my boss. So even when Grayson snarled at me about an e-mail I was supposed to have sent off before lunch and hadn’t, I grinned and told him I’d get it done right away. I knew work stressed him; anyone could understand that when his business was worth billions and his clients could be asshats.
Case in point, Zoe Douglas.
She swooped onto the floor with a scowl on her gorgeous face and designer wear on her perfect body.
“I want to see Grayson,” she demanded.
“Do you have an appointment?” I asked.
“No,” she said with a sneer. “And I don’t need one. Tell him I’m here, and he’ll let me in.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Douglas, but Mr. Jackson is on a very important call right now and is not to be disturbed. If you would like to wait in the waiting area at the front, I’ll come and get you when he’s free, or I can contact your manager.”
She stomped her heel-clad foot. “I need Grayson, and I will not wait, you stupid bitch. When I come here, I demand to be taken care of, not to be pushed aside as if I’m a nobody like you.”
Grayson’s door swished open. “Zoe. In here now,” was clipped out low with a growl.
She sent me a look as if to say “I told you so,” and glided into Grayson’s office. I didn’t look; I didn’t need to, not when I could hear just fine. I heard the door close and then… shouting from both sides.
It reminded me of the words Grayson and Harpy had outside the car Friday night. I still wondered what the outcome was.
I didn’t have to wonder for long, much to my disappointment. A throat cleared in front of my desk. I looked from the computer up to see a smiling, in a vindictive way, Harper. “I want to see Grayson.”
I raised my brows. “I’m sure you can hear he’s busy right now.” I pointed out, just as his voice boomed something from behind the door.
“Oh, I don’t mind waiting. Besides, I have a surprise for you. I found someone downstairs. He seemed lost so I thought I would do the right thing and bring him up.” She grinned, while her eyes shone with glee. Then she shifted aside.
With wide eyes, I stood quickly. “Robert,” I breathed.
“Makenzie.” He smiled, and it was his sweet smile.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk with my wife.”
Glancing to Harper, I saw she seemed smug about her findings. “How did you find me?” I asked him.
“I tracked your phone.”
I needed a new phone.
“May we speak, please? This nice woman helped me to find your floor, and now I would like a chance to say some things.”
Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t think there’s anything to say.”
“Makenzie. Please, darling, six years together and you’re willing to throw it all away?”
Was I?
Studying him, his charcoal suit, his gelled back hair, his prim and proper voice, I realized after all the hurtful words, his cheating ways, that I was willing to throw it all away without another thought.
I was happy.
I was finally happy with where I was, my job, my place to stay, and becoming more myself than I had been in a long time helped.
“Sorry, Robert, but you showed up expecting something that you won’t get. What I said over the phone last time is still where I stand. Have you signed the papers?”
His jaw clenched. “A private word, just for a moment.”
“I’m at work. I can’t take—”
“Oh, I can cover the desk for you while you speak with your husband.” Harper smiled sweetly.
Robert eyed her and grinned back with a nod. “See, the lovely lady is willing to help out.”
“My name is Harper.” She licked her lips at my ex.
Robert held out his hand to her. She took it, and I watched in disgust when his thumb rubbed over her hand. “I’m Robert Mayfair. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harper.”
“Pleasure is all mine,” she purred.
To settle my stomach, I needed to get Robert to understand whatever he wanted wasn’t going to happen and quickly so he’d leave.
“Robert, if you will follow me,” I said and walked around the desk down the hall to the break room where the coffee and snacks were supplied. Turning, I leaned against the counter and asked, “What is it you need?”
He sighed and then smiled. “Darling, I need you. It’s always been you, and I’m sorry I lashed out and told a fib, that I cheated. I would never do that to you. I need you to come home.” He laughed. “You can’t honestly like working here, as an assistant. Yes, it may be flashy, but it’s not a job for my wife.”
My hands gripped the counter at each side of my hips. “Nothing has changed since I spoke to you last, Robert. I’m not coming back.”
His eyes flashed with annoyance. “You care so little for me and what I want?”
“No, it’s just that I’m finally putting myself first for once.”
He snorted. “Makenzie, this back and forth is getting us nowhere. Come to dinner tonight, and we can talk some more.”
Shaking my head, I flicked my eyes to the floor and then back to my ex. “Sign the papers, Robert.”
“I will not sign them,” he barked. “No wife of mine leaves me.”
“Then it’s lucky she’s not your wife,” was snarled behind Robert.
I let out a yip of a squeal, like every time Grayson snuck up on me, and saw him just inside the room, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.
Robert spun around and demanded, “Who do you think you are to interrupt us and say such a thing?”
“Kenzie’s boss.” His brow rose.
Robert stiffened. “I think it’s best you stay out of our business. It’s between my wife and me.”
Grayson looked bored. “And I think you need to get it through your head she’s not your wife anymore.”
“Who—”
Grayson straightened and leaned toward Robert. “I’m her boss. I’m the one who saw the pain flash over her face when you told her you cheated. Who told her she was awkward and fat. Let me guess, you used to like going home to a clean, warm house with a cooked meal. You want her back so you can have your cake and eat it too.”
“You don’t know what—”
“I do. I’ve seen your sort. My father was one of them. Kenzie works for me now. If she wishes for you to sign the papers, you fucking will. If she wishes to never see you again, and I find she has, you will have me to deal with. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?”
My heart beat so fast it was hurting, only in a good, wild way. Watching Grayson take Robert down a peg was something I never thought would turn me on, but it was.
Oh, God. Was that sick? Being turned on so much my nipples were hard while my panties were damp because my boss was going head-to-head and winning with my ex?
Robert spun back to me. “Makenzie?”
“I’m sorry, Robert—”
“No, she’s not sorry at all,” Grayson clipped.
I hid my smile with a cough. “Ah, I would like for you to sign the papers and accept I won’t be coming back.”
Robert scowled. “You’re making a big mistake.”
Shrugging, I then shook my head. “See, I don’t think I am.”
Grayson stepped away from the doorway as Robert stormed from the room.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
My boss took me in, my heavy breath, my trembling body. I wondered if he thought it was from being frightened or worried. It wasn’t. Not that I would tell him the truth why. Because I was turned on for the first time in years.
He grunted, turned, and stalked from the room. Then he barked loudly, “Get the fuck back to work.”
Shortly after, I went from the break room to my desk without meeting anyone’s gaze. Only I held my head high and let the tension roll off me when I didn’t see Harper or Zoe in sight. I sat down and reread the e-mail I had been working on to send it off to Vice when a message popped up onto my screen.
That was unbelievable. It came from Darby.
I glanced over to her. She nodded, bugged her eyes out at me, and then focused pointedly on her computer.
Another message came through. After Mr. Jackson finished yelling at Zoe, he opened his door, glared at Harper, and asked where you were. She told him you were dealing with a personal matter during business hours. That girl is vicious. She wants you gone even though she doesn’t want your job. Anyway, he said something to Harper, who huffed, then took off. Then Mr. Jackson went searching for you. Was that your douche ex?
Yes, I replied back.
I think Mr. Jackson is happy with how you do your job to stick up for you like that. He’s never done it before.
I guess.
I could hear her laugh. Glancing there, I saw her smile and shake her head.
Well, I’d better get back to work. I sent back a smiley face. I hated the thought of the many questions I was going to get over lunch tomorrow after Darby, who loved to gossip, spread the latest office drama.
Then again, I’d let them think what they wanted. I couldn’t let myself worry about it. I’d tell my side, and if they believed it, then they did. If they thought something more of the way Grayson stuck up for me, then I’d let them.
Even if my belly churned with nerves.
I liked my boss. I liked my job and where I was staying and nothing, or no one, was going to ruin it for me when I was for once, on my own two feet.
The intercom buzzed. “Mrs. Mayfair, please bring in a contract form for Ethan.”
I scooted my chair back, went to the file cabinet, and grabbed a form out. I paused at his door and took a deep breath. Body, please behave.
Opening the door, my gaze landed on Grayson, who gestured for the file with his hand while his eyes were on the computer. I handed him the file and stood back. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes,” he bit out coldly. “Next time I would prefer it if you took your personal issues elsewhere. I shouldn’t have to interfere.”
It was then dread filled my chest, and I deflated like a blow-up doll.
“Of course,” I snapped. God, I hadn’t even asked him to interfere in the first place. If it weren’t for his latest screw, Robert wouldn’t have come up to the floor. I ground my teeth together. Grayson was pissed at me because he had caused a fuss in front of his other workers. Well, I was pissed he was taking it out on me.
Men. All the goddamn same.
“Anything else, Mr. Jackson?” I asked emotionlessly. I was good at shutting myself down.
“No, that would be all.” He didn’t even look at me.
Fine.
It was all fine and fucking dandy.
I went back to my desk, closing the door to his office a little more abruptly than I should, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to know I was angry at him for being a dick over a matter he involved himself in.
He should have ignored it, left me to deal with it, but he hadn’t, and I was not taking the blame for his actions.
Screw him. Screw him and his good-looking face, his hot body, and his deep voice.
I’d go back to calling him Mr. Jackson. I’d go back to dodging him in the kitchen.
In fact, I’d install a fucking mini bar in my stupid, beautiful room, in his ugly, wonderful apartment.
Screw Mr. Jackson.