Chapter 3
Although I tossed and turned all night, I didn’t feel tired. In fact, my nerves were still on edge about what was yet to come. Since the previous day’s fiasco, I hadn’t seen or spoken to Garrett. After I stood up to him, I expected him to follow close behind and tell me to pack my shit and get the fuck out of Mitchell Enterprises. Instead, he never showed.
One thing was certain: I knew a position with less money was better than no income at all. Transferring back to marketing was the only option I had. I wasn’t a quitter, but no way in hell was it going to work with Garrett Mitchell. He and I clashed like oil and water, and he set my temper ablaze like gasoline on a fire.
Still seething, I slid the mouse over the mouse pad.
I don’t own a single pair of boring white cotton underwear, thank you very much!
Mind made up, I clicked on the new mail tab and began composing a letter to HR, requesting a transfer back to my old position. Working for George was safe territory. I’d never worried about losing my job. I’d known Garrett’s reputation for having a razor-edged temper before accepting, but the dollar signs had convinced me I could handle it. Waves of nausea drifted through my stomach as all the whispered descriptions from the breakroom spiraled in my mind…
Heart of ice.
Tin man.
Intimidating.
Stubborn.
One in particular caused another wave of nausea: He’d fire his own mother wearing a smile.
He had my emotions in a jumbled mess. I hated arrogant men who thought they were God’s gift to women, and though Garrett was definitely a gift, he was one straight from the devil. It had been a long time since my blood had hummed and my knees felt like Jell-O, and this was the first time the juncture of my thighs had throbbed just from looking at someone.
After hitting send, I frantically dialed Cordelia’s extension. The faster I said farewell to the office on the top floor and slid into my comfort zone, the better. I wasn’t cut out to deal with inappropriate comments from an asshole CEO.
After the third ring, her long-ass voicemail greeting began. As I tapped my pen on the desk, waiting patiently to leave a message, heavy footsteps barged into my office. I didn’t need to look up—I knew those black Italian leather shoes.
Garrett closed the door hard enough to make me flinch. I slowly lifted my gaze, my hand trembling as it placed the phone on the cradle. The muscle I’d seen twitch when he was annoyed jerked violently. He stopped a few feet away, a deep dark chocolate color in his eyes.
“I’m going to say this once, Ms. Sheridan: do not ever confront me in front of others. If you have something to say, you’ll address it with me in private. As far as my inappropriate comments, I apologize.” He bit out the words, his tone dead serious.
“Let me guess—Jennings advised you to apologize.”
He ran his hand through his hair, huffing in annoyance before leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest.
I almost laughed out loud, knowing I’d hit the nail on the head. He’d followed orders, probably sweating bullets trying to keep harmony with his bank account. For a second, I wondered how much a comment about my panties would be worth if things went south.
“I sent an email to HR requesting to transfer back to marketing, and I copied you and George on it. Under the circumstances, I think the sooner I go back, the better.”
I tossed my purse into the box still containing my personal things. In a matter of minutes, all of this would be behind me, and I could focus on what was really important—my mother.
“Not going to happen.” His voice rumbled, our eyes colliding in a standoff.
“Mr. Mitchell, it’s not up for negotiation.”
“I’m not negotiating, Ms. Sheridan.”
“Your comments left the door wide open for a lawsuit!”
A devilish smile spread across his face. It was as if I were a mere mouse going up against the hungry Cheshire cat. He closed the small gap between us, and I watched him as if I were going to be eaten alive.
“Because I stated the obvious, that you aren’t my type? Because I assured my attorney I wasn’t attracted to you in the least? Hardly harassment, Ms. Sheridan. Bottom line, until the sale of La Amory Sands is closed, you’ll stay as my assistant. End of discussion.”
“I…can’t do it.”
“Unless you’re resigning, you have no other choice.” He cocked his eyebrow up, his confidence filling the air along with his silent laughter. The smug bastard knew he’d pushed me into a corner and now held me hostage.
Except I’d never been one to stay down, not under any circumstances. I’d figure something out—I had to; my livelihood and my mom’s depended on it.
“Consider this my two weeks’ notice. I’ll send it in writing to you and HR.” I glared, holding my own though my insides felt as if I’d been pushed into a whirlpool that was now pulling me underwater, sucking away all the air I had left.
“You should have read the policies carefully, Ms. Sheridan—all administrative positions are required to give thirty days for both resignation and transfer requests.”
I felt the blood run from my face, my pulse drumming in my ears while he wore a cocky, brooding expression.
“I quit without notice.”
“Careful—who will hire you? You can’t expect a recommendation based on an exit without notice. You owe me thirty days.” Without so much as a glance back at me, he strode through the door separating our offices, slamming it behind him.
My jaw clenched as I threw my pen across the room toward the mahogany door, missing it by a couple of feet.
Defeated, I sank into the chair. He had me right where he wanted me. I had to either put up with his insufferable behavior and do my job or commit career suicide. Filing a suit against him would only make my resume laughable.
Letting out a deep sigh, I grabbed my cell and frantically typed with trembling fingers.
Me: I’m in over my head, George. Please call ASAP!
Seconds passed, turning into minutes without a reply.
Me: CALL ME!!!
Not even the shouty caps elicited a response.
Me: Garrett Mitchell is an asshole. How can you stand him? When you get this, I hope and pray I still have a job.
I shoved the phone across the desk then whirled around to face the city. Below, life kept going—cars rushed down the busy streets, people scurried along the sidewalks, and businesses carried on as normal. Leaning back in my chair, I watched a lone bird soar the skies in a gracefully effortless glide, making a wide circle in the space between Mitchell Enterprises and the neighboring high-rise. The spectacular display made me shake my head as my mother’s words rang in my ear.
“Soar high in all that you do…even amidst the storms, Brookie.”
A tap sounded on my door before Greta peeked in, holding two steaming cups.
“Thought you could use some coffee to start your day.”
“Too bad it’s too early for wine.”
“Jennings told me what happened.”
I rolled my eyes. “Did he tell you his client is an asshole?”
She let out a giggle. “Honey, I’ve called him that so many times I’ve lost count. He’s stubborn and has high expectations, but he’s the most generous boss I’ve ever had.”
“He’s infuriating. I’m so pissed off at myself because I didn’t know I had to give thirty days’ notice!”
“Tell me you didn’t resign! You make coming to work fun just to see what’s going to come out of your mouth!”
“I’m glad someone sees humor in my fucked-up situation.”
“No one has ever had the balls to stand up to him, not even when he’s in the wrong, and he didn’t even give you the boot. Believe me, he’s done that before for far less. Vicky once looked at him wrong and the next morning a memo went out suggesting she’d chosen to leave for better endeavors. The rest of the company may have bought that, but I didn’t.”
“And you still think he’s the most generous boss ever?”
“He has his moments, but the good in him outweighs the bad. Plus, he’s always been good to me. I know the rules of the company. I know what he expects, and I do it. It’s pretty simple.”
“I know I’m not going to make it here. I wish I understood why George recommended me for this shitty position.”
“Mr. Mitchell doesn’t have a choice. This La Amory Sands deal is huge, and there wasn’t time to interview someone and get them in here. George is well respected and trusted, and Garrett values his opinion.”
“I’ve never even seen Garrett on our floor. I didn’t realize they were tight.”
“Like family. I’ll tell you what you need: after work, come to Lola’s with me.”
“What’s Lola’s?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s a great little place with an amazing outdoor terrace. I won’t take no for an answer—if you don’t mind the company of your secretary.” She perched on the edge of my desk, crossed her long legs, and peered into the box I hadn’t unpacked. “Where’s the rest of your stuff?”
“That’s all of it.” I eyed her carefully, sinking into my chair. “And I’d love to go to Lola’s, not with my secretary, but with you.”
She grinned. “You’ll love it.”
Greta was sassy, her dark hair in a spiky pixie cut. She wore minimal makeup with a soft shade of pink lipstick. Her green eyes flickered with excitement, and somehow, I knew she and I were going to be friends.
She rummaged through the few books, picked up the black cherry scented candle then set it down, and paused for a moment. “Well, was it?”
“What?”
She retrieved the fortune cookie message and read it aloud. “Today will be happy.”
“Actually, it was quite the opposite—today was one of the worst.”
The sound of door opening had Greta quickly sliding off the corner of the desk to a standing position. “Buzz me if you need anything.”
She nodded to the devil himself before scurrying out the door. Refusing to acknowledge his presence, I tossed the candle back into the box.
“I emailed you the information for the annual fall picnic. Sort through the details, finalize the contracts for catering, and choose the band.”
It was as if our previous conversation had never happened. I had no clue what to say or even how to respond due to my fear of being fired on the spot. Licking my dry lips, I tried to acknowledge him, but the words never came.
“I’ll be here at seven in the morning. What kind of coffee do you like?” he asked in a clipped tone.
I accidentally nudged the mouse, and the screensaver I’d again forgotten to change popped up. Lines creased his forehead and his jaw tensed. I bit back a laugh.
Serves you right.
“Skinny caramel macchiato.”
“Truce?” He extended his hand, and my heart flipped at the cording peeking from beneath the sleeve pushed up on his forearm.
I pulled my lower lip between my teeth and held out my hand. His hand swallowed mine in its grasp as an unexpected sizzle coursed through my veins at the speed of light. My face felt the rush of heat and I swallowed hard, trying to pull myself together.
No, no, no! He does not excite you, Brooke.
“Truce,” I managed to say, retrieving my hand from his hold.
The surge of attraction confused me. Number one, I didn’t feel anything toward men. I wasn’t interested in the opposite sex, didn’t miss dating, and hadn’t felt the slightest zing of attraction in a couple of years now.
“I’ll be less of an ass tomorrow.”
“I highly doubt that, but I can handle you.”
He let out a laugh. “You’re probably right. So far, you are handling it, so we’ll see, Brooke Sheridan. We shall see. Get some rest tonight—tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”
He turned to walk away, giving me a delicious view of his backside, wide shoulders that let the mind wander into fantasyland, and rippling muscles beneath his white dress shirt. Oh how the small glimpse of corded arms teased the thoughts of ripped abs and chest, and that ass…
He called over his shoulder, “Don’t be late.”
“Mr. Mitchell,” I called out to him.
“Garrett,” he immediately replied, correcting me again as he turned around.
“This doesn’t change the fact of my resignation. I’ll submit my intent in writing to you and HR before I leave today.”
I had no other choice.
The infuriating man had my stomach in knots. I couldn’t spend every minute worrying about pissing him off so badly he might fire me, and I couldn’t pretend he didn’t give me unwanted tingles in places they weren’t welcome.
“Suit yourself. La Amory Sands will be finalized by then.”
Once again, he didn’t wait for my response before closing the door between us.
I needed more than a glass of wine at Lola’s—I needed the entire bottle to clear my mind.