Luca (Chicago Blaze 2)

He gives me one last, quick kiss before walking out of the bedroom and heading for the front door.

“I’m staying in here ‘til the door is closed since I’m naked,” I call out, ducking into the bathroom.

“Bye Abby,” Luca calls back. “Have a good day at work.”

“You too!”

I’ve got my toothbrush pasted and I go to work brushing as I hear the door close. I walk through the suite’s front room and lock it, smiling as I do. There’s just something about Luca that makes it impossible not to smile.* * *My Chicago project manager, Stephen, looks at me over the rim of his glasses at the conference table we’re sitting at.

“I’m not following, Abby. Since when is coming in under budget a bad thing?”

“You changed the design specs without my approval. Changing the scope of work is different than coming in under budget.”

Stephen nods and takes off his glasses, taking a few seconds to think before he speaks. Probably wise since he’s already wearing my patience thin.

“You hired me to manage this project,” he finally says.

“I’m aware.”

“And in our contract it states that I can approve change orders.”

I arch my brows in surprise. “That wasn’t a change order; it was pretty much an entirely new set of plans.”

“Right, to make that store fit in better with the community aesthetic.”

“The plans had already been approved by planning and zoning, though.”

Stephen leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “I was hearing blowback from other business owners about the plans, though.”

“Really.” It’s more of a statement than a question. “You didn’t mention anything to me.”

He gives me another shrug, his eyes bulging with what appears to be frustration. “That’s because it’s your job to run Cypress Lane and it’s my job to oversee construction of these new stores.”

Wow. Not only is he telling me what my job is, he’s using a condescending tone to do it. Mansplaining 101.

Three years ago, before my life was blown to shreds, I would’ve smiled and smoothed things over. I’d have told Stephen, gently, that he messed up and explained how to do better next time.

Before Abby was sweet and patient. Deferential to the point of being a bit of a doormat at times. But after Abby knows what a battle it often is to be treated as an equal in a man’s world. After Abby has no tolerance for being talked down to.

“You know, Stephen, I think I’m going to take on project management of these new stores by myself.”

His eyes somehow bulge further. “Whoa, what? Are you…firing me?”

“Unless you resign within the next ten seconds.”

“Are you…?” He shakes his head and slumps back in his seat. “Abby, I think we just had a misunderstanding, and I apologize for my role in that.”

“I appreciate that, but I still think it’s best that we part ways.”

Stephen narrows his eyes. “This is exactly where your reputation for being a micromanaging shrew comes from.”

I furrow my brow in confusion. “When you were trying to get hired you said I had a reputation for being a tough negotiator and a closer.” I emphasize my point with air quotes.

“Christ,” he mutters. “Give me a few days to review the contract and I’ll let you know.”

“Let me know what?”

“If I’d rather resign or be terminated.”

I can’t help my slight smile. “Oh, you’re terminated. Your ten seconds are up.”

“Fuck you.”

As I stand up and gather my bag and coat in my arms, I have to force myself not to wince. I’m definitely sore from my night in the sack with Luca. “As you’ll see in the contract, once terminated you aren’t allowed on any property owned by Cypress Lane. I’ll have any personal effects left on job sites returned to you.”

“This is ridiculous,” Stephen mutters. “I’ve never been fired from a job in my life.”

“Best of luck to you.” I walk to the door, and Stephen jumps out of his seat.

He points a finger in my face and says, “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer about this bullshit. You’ve got no grounds for firing me.”

“Under the terms of the contract, I’m not required to have grounds.”

“So you admit you’re just doing this to be a bitch?”

He comes closer to me, scowling, and my body tenses in fear. I want to throw the door open and run, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction. If it was before, I’d cower. Cry. Call my husband to come rescue me.

But it’s after. For the rest of my life, everything will be after. And there’s nothing Stephen could do to me that would hurt worse than what I’ve already survived.

I glare at Stephen as I turn the handle to the conference room door and open it.

“You know what they say about us shrews,” I say as I leave the room. “We can be pretty shrewd.”Chapter Six