He turns to Mina. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nods. I catch her eye as she rushes past me and out the door. Not so smug now, are you, bitch?
“Did you forget how to knock?” Mr. Royce snaps.
I balk at him. “How was I supposed to know you’d be in here getting blown by your assistant?”
He slips a hand into his pocket, drawing my gaze downward. His pants are still tight in the crotch. For some reason, this fact makes me feel warm all over. “What the hell did you need anyway?”
“I was going to tell you that I’ll be back in the morning to finish organizing the storage room.” I stand up straighter. “Now I don’t have to, because I won’t be coming back ever again.”
“You’re quitting?” He gestures to his dick. “Over this?”
I saunter around him and take a seat in his fancy leather chair. He eyes me warily. “While you were busy getting deep-throated, I took it upon myself to snap a few photos. I can only imagine what Mrs. Royce will say when she sees them.”
His gaze hardens. “You sent those photos to my wife?”
“Not yet. But I will, unless you do everything I tell you to.”
Mr. Royce’s hands fist at his sides like he wants to ring my neck, or other parts. “All right. Let’s hear your demands.”
I rest my feet on his desk. “I want a raise.”
“I thought you just said you aren’t coming back.”
“I’m not. But you’re going to keep giving me a paycheck through the end of the summer.”
He sneers. “Anything else?”
This is going way better than I expected. My pulse flutters. “I want to throw a party. A big one, and invite all my friends from college, and I want you to pay for it. I want a bonus, five hundred—no! A thousand dollars, cash, on top of my regular paycheck.”
He folds his arms. “That’s all?”
“No! I want...a car. A red MINI Cooper!”
“A convertible?”
“Yes!” My smile consumes my face. I can already see myself driving down the coast with the wind in my hair and the music blaring.
Mr. Royce scratches his chin, like he’s mulling the whole thing over. His gaze narrows.
“No.”
I scowl. “What do you mean, no? If your wife finds out—”
“My wife and I are separating. She couldn’t care less who I fuck.”
I barely have time to process this news before he’s towering over me. Mr. Royce is a big man, six feet to my five two, and ripped from taking full advantage of the law firm’s health club membership. He could snap me in half like a piece of celery if he wanted to.
“Trying to blackmail your boss is a fireable offense.” He braces himself on the arms of the chair, caging me in. “Trying to blackmail me, after everything I’ve done for you? Now, that’s personal.”
My throat tightens. I can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.
“I've had a long and stressful day,” he says. “And when I have long, stressful days, I like to unwind by getting my dick sucked. But you, in your selfishness, have managed to ruin that course of action, alongside everything else. I'd be impressed if I weren't standing here in blue-ball Hell."
My bottom lip quivers, but I doubt crying is going to help my cause. I’ve fucked up. Big time. If he wasn’t going to fire me before, he sure as shit will now. Hell, he might even tell my stepdad. I could get kicked out of the house.
I’m done. Finished. I’m as good as roadkill.