“I apologize…Sophie.”
Hearing my name on his lips, spoken so softly with an apology, throws me off-kilter for a moment. But I quickly regain my balance, staring at him with suspicion. His sudden polite behavior has my instincts screaming.
It’s a trap.
Scotty deflates with a relieved sigh, obviously convinced his boss is finally going to play nice. My righteous anger falters for a second. Could he be right? He does know Jared better than I do. Maybe better than anyone. If he’s convinced we can work together without any bloodshed, then maybe
“And you can call me Mr. Hart. Or sir.”
And there he is.
“Oh! you––”
“I’ll just get Sophie situated,” Scotty cuts in, a desperate plea in his expression.
“This isn’t going to work,” I say, resisting Scotty’s attempt to lead me out of the office.
Scotty heaves a sigh before crossing his arms over his chest. “You need this job, or you wouldn’t still be here. And you,” he says, turning his attention to his boss, “need an assistant. I’m leaving Friday, Jared. If you two can’t figure out how to make this work, you’re going to be screwed.”
“Yeah, you might have to get your own coffee,” I say with theatrical horror and an exaggerated shiver.
I think I see one corner of the asshole’s mouth twitch, but his face remains otherwise impassive. I must’ve imagined it. I don’t think the man knows how to smile. Not at me.
I know I’m being a bitch, but he deserves it. Actually, he deserves much worse.
My body goes completely still, my vision glazing over as a plan starts to form. Whether Jared likes it or not, he needs me. Scotty has made that abundantly clear. I’m his only option. There is no one else. Not right now, at least.
Working here would keep me afloat financially while I find a better fit.
It will also give me access to the man who ruined my life.
My heartrate accelerates as the idea takes root. This is the perfect opportunity to dish out some payback. I can make Jared’s life a little more difficult––okay, maybe a lot more difficult––and the satisfaction it would give me would be unparalleled.
Payback is a bitch, asshole.
Sure, cold coffee and misplaced dry-cleaning don’t come close to being suitable reparations for getting me fired, but it’s a start. And it will be fun, frustrating the jerk at every turn.
My stomach starts to churn, and I decide it’s with anticipation. It’s definitely not because being vindictive and bitchy is so far outside my usual wheelhouse. And it’s certainly not guilt over taking this job with every intention of performing it terribly.
No. If Jared agrees to give me a chance, I’m doing this.
He deserves whatever he gets.