CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The following morning was, thankfully, uneventful. I woke up on time, had the opportunity to shower, get dressed, do my hair and makeup, and select shoes that actually matched before I left and did the mad sprint to my car. After sprinting from my car inside my office building, I stood just inside the doors huffing and puffing, my eyes peering up to eye the three flights of stairs I would need to climb in order to be on time. Fortunately, I had ten minutes to ascend the stairs and walk through the lobby door.
As soon as I entered the office, I was greeted by the same orange glow of security lights, the same tablet sitting perfectly center on the surface of the reception desk. Picking it up, I typed out my usual morning greeting.
I’m here. And don’t tell me I’m late, because I’m actually five minutes early.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t my usual message, but I’d grown tired of stupid messages and cryptic men thinking they could toy with my life for their amusement. The tablet beeped in my hands.
You’re early. Please take a seat in the lobby and I’ll let you in at the appropriate time.
Son of a bitch. Dropping the tablet onto the reception desk, I didn’t care if it broke. Donovan, I’m sure, had extras. I refused to follow his little instruction, so rather than taking a seat, I waited by the door. Minutes ticked by, one after the other, so many in fact that I was still standing by the door ten minutes after I should have officially started my work day. Finally giving up, I stomped back to the desk, picked up the tablet and typed out another message.
It’s ten after eight. Are you planning on letting me in?
I needed a key, and one way or another, I was going to get one. Maybe Jackson would have a spare. Hopefully, his installation job was finished and he would be able to give me a key today.
Did you sit down? I believe I was specific with my instruction.
Rolling my eyes, I decided two could play this game. If he wanted to pay me for standing around in the lobby all day, then fine. I’m not sitting. I’ll just wait out here - ON THE CLOCK - until you deem me worthy of entrance.
The tablet was silent for another three minutes before his response pinged through.
You’re not on the clock until you pass through the employee door. Which you haven’t. Because you didn’t follow instructions.
My eyes clenched shut. I didn’t have time for his games, for Dark Realities’ games, for anybody’s games. Why couldn’t I just live my life like a normal person without every creep in the world trying to outwit me?
Carrying the tablet with me, I sat in one of the plastic seats, a grimace shadowing my face as Donovan finally came to open the door.
Glaring up at him, I hated how the color of his perfectly pressed shirt matched his eyes, how the tailoring of his dress pants was so exact that he made me want to strip them right off to discover what was beneath the material. I hated the smirk pulling at his perfect lips, hated the glimmer behind his icy stare that told me I’d obeyed, as usual.
Pushing to my feet, I attempted to appear unfazed by his game, unfrazzled by the attraction I had for a man who obviously enjoyed making me prance around for him whenever he felt the need for amusement.
I didn’t bother speaking to him as I passed by to walk through the door, and I regretted breathing deeply just so I could inhale the scent of him that was masculine and earthy. He shouldn’t have smelled good. He shouldn’t have affected me the way he did. None of it was fair.
As soon as I’d walked far enough into the back area to flip on the lights, my tablet beeped.
I’m still waiting for you to stick up for yourself. Who trained you to be so compliant?
Spinning on my heel, I glared at him again. He simply stared back at me with a bored professional mask that gave away nothing of what he was thinking or feeling. “I’m not compliant, Mr. Stone. I’m simply an employee attempting to hold on to my job. But I guess you wouldn’t know what that feels like, considering -“
I stopped that train of thought before I lost my job for being mouthy. Donovan and I weren’t on the best of terms. He was still my boss. I was still his employee. And I didn’t know him well enough to know he wouldn’t fire me for stepping out of line.
His brow arched when I was silent.
“Never mind. I’ll get to work now.”
My tablet beeped as soon as I reached my desk. That was impressive up until you stopped. Meet me in my office in an hour. I have tasks to assign you.
I turned around in time to see his door swing closed, my heart aching because he’d defeated me once again.
The appointed hour I was to be at his beck and call came along quickly. Knocking on his door, I waited for my tablet to beep to let me know I could enter. Two minutes later, the beep sounded.
Rather than checking the message, I let myself in to find him sitting on the front edge of his desk again. What was wrong with his chair? Why did he always have to be in a position that forced me to move around him? Couldn’t he just be a normal person, with a normal chair, in a normal office?
No. Not Donovan. Normal would be boring to a man like him.
What do you need me to do today? I typed after taking a seat. His tablet beeped from behind him, but rather than check the message, he simply watched me. Squirming in my seat, I darted my gaze around his office, noticing the lack of ornamentation or decoration except for that one picture on the wall of him and a blond woman. The woman was gorgeous, and there was warmth in Donovan’s eyes that was so obvious it made my heart ache. His smile was beaming and two dimples indented his cheeks. Darting my gaze back to him, I wondered if he ever smiled like that with other people.
Why do you hate being touched? he asked, using sign language rather than reaching for his tablet.
A sound rattled up my throat that was filled with irritation. Breathing a few times to calm myself, I finally asked, “What did you need me to do today?”
Answer my question, he signed. I watched his elegant hands move over the words, noticing a second too late that he’d moved his leg so that our knees touched. My first instinct was to pull away, but I fought the reaction, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.
“I just don’t. Now why don’t you tell me what administrative assistant tasks you would like me to do today?”
I just don’t isn’t an answer. Something had to make you dislike it. I’d like to know what that something was.
“It’s a long story, and on top of that, it’s personal.”
I have time to listen to a story.
“I said it’s personal. My like or dislike of touch has nothing to do with my employment, so I don’t think you have the right to ask me that question.”
His knee inched closer, the soft material of his slacks rubbing against my skin. Refusing to admit what that small amount of contact was doing to my body, I grit my teeth while flashing him a practiced and professional smile. His next words wiped the smile from my face.
Technically, I do have the right. If there’s something in your past that is so severe that you can’t stand human contact, then I think I have a right to know. Your state of mind affects my business, including how you’ll interact with my clients when the time comes. You, merely by being an employee of Stone Industries, are a reflection of me. If there is trauma that can negatively affect your performance as my assistant, I believe I have the right to be forewarned.
Anger bubbled up inside me, the feeling so forceful that I could feel it heat my cheeks. Donovan merely observed my reaction silently, the corner of his lips twitching once as if my anger was amusing.
My brows pulled together and a dam burst inside me, the word vomit spewing from my mouth in such a rush that I didn’t even think to moderate my response. “You don’t have to worry about me embarrassing the company, Mr. Stone. I’ve never had a meltdown or a panic attack in my life. Mentally, I’m as healthy as any normal human being, but that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy handsy men pawing all over me. I can shake hands. I believe that is all that’s required of an admin assistant.”
I should have stopped right there, shouldn’t have pressed my luck, but unfortunately my anger had gotten the best of me.
“And it’s not like you’re in a position to be making judgment calls on another person’s quirk. You refuse to speak to people even though you’re able to do so. I call that a problem for your company as well, but you don’t see me pestering you relentlessly about it.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I slapped my hand over my lips to keep more from pouring out. Donovan’s expression chilled, his eyes pinning mine in place as his lips pulled into a thin line.
Shit. Crap. Damn.
I was going to be fired. There was no question about it.
He stared at me like I’d just run over his puppy, backed up, and did it all over again, the entire time laughing maniacally while telling him he’s next. Several seconds passed - long second, seconds that ticked into eternity - but eventually he did something that nearly knocked me out of my chair.
Donovan Stone smiled. An actual smile. Not as brilliant as the one in the photo, more suave and chilling, but it was still a smile with straight white teeth and the hint of humor curling at the corners.
There she is, he signed. I knew there was more to you than met the eye. I was just wondering how much bullying it would take to bring it out. You can leave now. Our meeting is over.
My jaw dropped open, only closing again when the chaos inside my head settled enough to understand he’d wanted me to lose my cool. “What? I thought you needed something from me.”
Standing from his perch, he rounded the corner of his desk to take a seat in his large leather chair. After kicking his feet up on the desk, he snatched the tablet from the surface and typed. I believe you have some filing calling your name. Or were you hoping to get fired on your third day?
He didn’t bother to look at me as my tablet beeped and his message came through. Once again, I’d been dismissed.
Shaking my head, my fingers clenched over the tablet, the blood rushing from the tips so that the skin turned white. But rather than falling for his bullshit again, I stood from my seat and stalked to the door. Closing it quietly when all I wanted to do was slam it shut, I moved to my desk and groaned to hear another beep.
Are you all packed up to go? I’ll escort you out myself.
My heart practically stopped beating to see the message. Go? Did Donovan just fire me? Shaking my head in denial of what I was reading, my eyes shot to his closed door, my mind playing over everything I’d just said to him. I’d messed up by admitting I knew he could talk, but he hadn’t seemed angry. He’d smiled. He’d dismissed me as he normally does. He’d-
His door opened behind me. Spinning to hear the noise, I locked eyes with his glacial stare, watched as he leaned against his doorframe, tucked his hands in his pockets and faced me with a bitterly cold expression that wasn’t angry, but wasn’t friendly either. Several long seconds passed as we stared at each other, but eventually he pulled those elegant hands from his pockets and signed, I thought I told you to pack.
Panic gripped me, my thoughts scattering in every direction possible. How would I pay my bills next month? Would I have to return to my parents and admit I was a failure? Or would I just sleep in a cardboard box while some creepy stalker watched me from the shadows? What would Rachel say when she learned I lost a crappy job because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut? How would I look anybody in the eye when all my mistakes were forced into the open to reveal that I’d made horrible decisions that led -
We have a client meeting in an hour. I strongly suggest you help me gather the necessary materials in order to make a timely appearance.
His lips pulled into a smirk, his eyes studying me as the meaning of what he’d said fell into place. Panic morphed into understanding. Understanding narrowed my eyes.
“You did that on purpose! You let me think you were firing me for calling you out on your issues!”
He grinned again before turning around to walk into his office. Neglecting to close his door, he was silent, a beep sounding on my tablet sent by the bastard on the opposite side of the wall.
Hurry, Ms. Jennings. I’d hate to have to scold you for making me late to a presentation.
He was going to be later than he realized...especially after I was done murdering him.