I open the door to the restroom and scan the hall to make sure there’s no one around.
The coast looks clear, so I go to the break room and make a quick cup of tea, trying to clear my head.
The pain may be new, but this situation isn’t.
Lincoln Burns is a nosy, rude, bad-tempered grumphead. I won’t dignify that by adding dangerously handsome.
But I knew that before I took this job, didn’t I?
Certainly before I agreed to his ninety-day proposal from hell. And I’m not ready to fly the white flag when I still have over eighty days to go.
I’ll get through this.
I have to, if only for my own pride.
If I made it out of a church with a hundred and forty-two people inside before I broke down over the biggest humiliation of my life, I can smile about this, too.
I can put in a few months earning big-girl pay and segue to another position.
Then I can forget all about this cinnamon-snorting psycho and the apocalyptic feelings he’s too good at stirring up.
6
A Midnight Dreary (Lincoln)
“Okay, I think we’re off to a fantabulous start. Class dismissed,” Anna says with a wide smile, calling the meeting to an end with a sharp clap of her hands.
I stand, watching my staff file past with the usual mix of wary respect or affable nods. When you’re in my position, you appreciate both.
I wait until the last person files past before I start moving.
“Mr. Burns?” Anna calls. “Can you stick around for a minute?”
Shit.
I’ve been around long enough to know nothing good ever comes from a subordinate asking for my time, even if she’s my hardworking and loyal marketing head.
Anna waits a few more seconds until she’s sure we’re alone.
The look she gives me says you fucked up before the words are out of her mouth.
“Something on your mind, Miss Patel?” I urge.
“Well, please don’t take this personally but...Dakota Poe is very talented. She hasn’t been here long, but I think she has that missing ingredient in creative we’ve needed for a long time.”
I nod slowly.
Get to the point. I never doubted Miss Poe’s talents.
“And? You say that like it’s a problem,” I say, folding my arms.
“I just...well, I hope she doesn’t quit,” Anna tells me point-blank.
I’m taken aback, even if I don’t show it.
“Quit? Why would she? She just got here, and considering her previous position and pay, I’m sure she’s happy we’ve given the stray a new home.”
“The pay, sure, but that’s not what I’m worried about.” Anna hesitates until I clear my throat impatiently, urging her to spit it out. “Boss, I think you upset her. You got sort of personal back there. And if you’re going to do it, does it have to be in front of everyone she works with?”
“I said nothing wrong,” I snarl back defiantly, looking away and then back at her again. “Did I?”
“Mr. Burns. I mean this as nicely as possible but... Would you be okay if a superior asked how you were fit to oversee a wedding line? Because you’re pretty single yourself, last I checked. I mean, you’re spearheading the entire line, and in fairness, the same question could be asked of you.”
I’m single for good fucking reason, I almost growl back.
“I wouldn’t mind answering it,” I bite off.
Not true.
I’d very much mind revisiting an engagement that went down in flames.
My heart bristles like it’s crawling with hornets, a lying face flashing in my mind I’ve tried like hell to forget.
Goddamn. Is that what I just did to Miss Poe? Pulled bad memories to the surface?
Perhaps Anna Patel has a point.
“Not everyone has your bluntness. Especially when it comes to marriage,” she says softly.
Damn. As much as I want to swipe away her concerns, a small, distant part of me screams she’s right.
From the way Nevermore hightailed it out of here, I may have thrown sea salt in an open wound.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I was simply curious,” I say.
Anna doesn’t say anything, but she holds my gaze with a disapproving glint in her dark eyes.
“Maybe so, but it struck a nerve. And Miss Poe doesn’t seem like the sensitive type.”
Yeah, she’s normally a walking spitfire, but everyone has their breaking point. Their touchy spots. Their defeats in life that they’ve pushed into a pit and buried.
Maybe more so if your last name is Poe.
And maybe I struck a nerve I shouldn’t have like the social porcupine I am.
Dammit, I hate that Anna has to be my conscience. I didn’t mean to upset Poe, but I have no idea what I could say to make it better either.
“Relax, Miss Patel. I’ll go deal with it.”
I’ve worked with Anna for a few years now. I’ve never seen the worried hangdog look she’s giving me now.
“Fine. I’ll go apologize if that’ll help you nix any plans to pull out your pitchfork and come after me.” I straighten my tie like I’m tightening my own noose.