“I’m here on behalf of Osbourne Corporation to pick up the Lannister documents you still have.”
I can see a tic in his jaw, betraying his irritation. For a fraction of a second he looks me over. I wonder if he’s thinking he can take me in a fight. He must do some quick math and see that not only am I younger, stronger, and taller than him, but I’m also willing to fight. He’s probably used his wallet to get out of scrapes since the time he could sign a check.
“Did that nosy little—”
“You don’t want to finish that sentence,” I cut him off, taking a step forward and widening my stance. “But if you’d like me to replace your tonsils with your nuts, go right ahead.”
He shuts his mouth and flexes his jaw again. No one talks about Jay like that and thinks they can get away with it. “Fine. But it’s not finished. I’ve spoken to personnel. My wife is sick, and I’m her full-time caregiver. I don’t have time for this.”
He walks over to a room just off the foyer, and I follow his path, not wanting him out of my sight until I get what I came for. He moves to the desk, closes an open file, and grabs the stack. He doesn’t hesitate with his choice, letting me know he’s looked at them recently.
“You know, as nice as this neighborhood is, I’d really hate to come back for another visit,” I say, taking the stack from him. I’m not playing games with him.
I watch as his fists clench, and he goes to the other side of the desk and opens a drawer, pulling out another file folder and handing it over. I was calling his bluff, and it looks like it paid off. He doesn’t know that I have no clue what this shit is, but I had a feeling a smug bastard like him would try to pull one over on Jay and that’s not something I’ll let happen.
“Tell that—” He stops himself and rethinks what he wants to say. “That’s all of it. And if you need anything else, you can contact my lawyer. I’m speaking to the company about this kind of harassment.”
“You do that,” I say, smiling at him and walking out. I have a feeling he isn’t going to be with the company much longer.
I can’t help feeling happy as I walk to the end of the block and flag down a cab. This stack of folders is going to make Jay’s day. And seeing her happy is the only thing that matters to me.
Traffic is a fucking nightmare, so of course it takes me almost forty-five minutes to get to the other end of town. By the time I get back, lunch is long over and it’s just over an hour before Jay finishes her day.
I go to the elevator, unable to wait a second more to give her the files. I reach down and scan the new pass I made for myself after giving Jay mine, and take it straight to the top.
When the doors open, I see she’s not at her desk, but I can hear her voice in the distance. I place the files on her desk, neatly stacked, and wait a second to see if she’s close to finishing up her conversation.
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Spencer, but I’m afraid that wouldn’t be very professional.”
I hear a deep voice mumble something, and then I hear Jay’s voice become louder.
“Mr. Spencer, I will be sure to pass on anything you say to Mr. Osbourne, including the lewd comments.”
I’m around the desk and down the hall so fast I nearly knock Jay over.
“Jordan.” She says my name like I’m her walking savior come to save her soul. “Mr. Spencer, I’d like you to meet Jordan Chen. He’s head of our technology department and works in security,” she says proudly, and moves to stand beside me. “And he’s a boxing champion and knows seventeen types of illegal punches.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, even though this scene is anything but funny.
The guy in the suit looks me over, and then his face reddens with embarrassment.
“Yes, of course. Forgive me, Miss Rose. I had a few cocktails while out with the board earlier. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome. If you’ll excuse me…”
He ducks around me, because I refuse to move even an inch for him, and scurries to the elevator. He darts in, and I hear him hurriedly press the button several times before the doors close and he’s on his way down.
“Seventeen types of illegal punches?” I ask, looking down at her and thinking she couldn’t be more adorable.
She shrugs and smiles at me. “It sounded good in my head.” She slips her hand into mine, and I love the feel of her soft, delicate fingers against my callused, rough ones and how easily she took my hand without a thought. “What do I owe you for coming to my rescue?”