“Not fucking funny, you two,” I cry. “Sammia, call Claire and tell her the cat is going to hell. When I get ahold of that thing . . . tick fucking tock.” I punch my fist hard.
The three of them burst out laughing again.
Jameson stands and begins to unbutton his shirt. “I thought Elliot and Christopher were coming in today. Take their suits.”
“They won’t be here until after ten. They have a breakfast meeting.”
“Sammia, can you find Jameson some clothes, please?” I stammer.
“Do I have to?” She sighs dreamily.
He hands over his shirt, and we suddenly become aware of the three reception girls standing at the door watching, and we both glance over.
Sammia gives us a goofy smile and shrugs. “Don’t mind us; this is the most exciting thing that’s happened in the office for like . . . forever.”
I glance at Jameson, and he rolls his eyes. What must we look like, both shirtless and half-undressed in the office?
“Fucking perverts,” I huff. “Go watch some porn or something.”
“This is better.” Sammia sighs again.
“Jesus Christ,” Jameson mutters under his breath.
The girls all giggle and slowly return to their desks.
Jameson hands over his shirt and tie and suit and shoes and socks, and I change into them. Elliot comes in the door unexpectedly,
and his face falls when he sees Jameson sitting at his desk in only his boxer shorts. “What the hell is going on?”
“Claire’s cat pissed on his clothes.” Jameson smirks. “He has a meeting. Can you go and buy me a new suit?”
Elliot’s brows rise in horror, and he looks to me.
“Don’t fucking say it,” I growl.
He bursts out laughing. “You fucking idiot.”
I storm out of the office as I do my tie. “Goodbye,” I call as I storm through the office. “This is not the morning I had in fucking mind.”
“Good luck!” the girls all call. “I hope you don’t run into any more cats out there.”
“Shut up,” I snap as I step into the elevator. “This isn’t fucking funny.”
It’s just around four o’clock when Sammia’s voice echoes through the intercom. “Tris, your mom is here.”
I hit send on my email . . . great. “Send her in.” I knew this was coming. I stand and go to the door and open it. Her lovely face comes into view, and I smile. “Hello, Mom.”
“Hello, darling.” She smiles as she walks past me. She takes a seat at my desk, and I hit the intercom. “Mallory, can you bring my mother in some tea, please?”
“Of course.”
She smiles and stares at me.
“Yes?” I smirk.
“Claire’s lovely.”
“She is.” I rest my elbow on my desk and steeple my fingers up over my temple.