From day one, she’d had it out for me, but I could never figure out why. We worked in the same department. Or I should say, I worked, she filed her nails.
Her narrow face pinched in anger as she looked at me. “How the hell does Kane McKenzie know who you are? And what the hell was all that talk about a yacht and croquet? Were you making fun of me?” She tapped the tip of one of her thousand-dollar pairs of shoes harshly on the tile.
I ached to tell her to go fuck herself, but because I was at work and wanted to remain professional, I wouldn’t. I rolled back my shoulders and tried to relax.
“I met him at an art gallery on Friday night,” I told her. “He helped me get out of a bad situation. Not that it’s any of your business.” I might not be able to tell her to go fuck herself, but that didn’t mean I had to be polite. “And yes, I was making fun of you.” Why lie about it?
She flinched slightly but recovered. Her face went cold. “Everyone knows how you got Simon fired. It’s all over the office Watercooler.” She smirked. “That’s right, I forgot, you’re not on the Watercooler chat.”
Watercooler was an interoffice chat room I didn’t bother with. I refused to let her bait me. “Simon got himself fired by trying to abuse his power.”
Sloane stuck a long narrow finger out at me. “You got him fired because he wasn’t interested in you. You threw yourself at him. Begged him.”
I wouldn’t let her provoke me and I wouldn’t give into her taunting. “Believe what you want, Sloane.” I shrugged. “Kane was there. He saw and heard everything.”
“I don’t believe you. No one will.” She stamped her shoe again like a toddler about to throw a tantrum.
“I don’t care, now get out of my way. I have work to do.” I tried to step around her, but once again she blocked my path by putting an arm out in front of me.
“What assignment does Kane have for you?”
I gave her a wide if somewhat bitchy smile. “He’s looking for a mentee and asked if I’d like to apply for the position.”
Rage colored her cheeks. She dropped her arms to her sides and balled her fists. “If anyone is going to be mentored by him, it’s me. You should have been let go instead of being offered a position here. Go back to the cesspit you crawled out of.”
I sighed dramatically. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Sloane. Green doesn’t quite match your eyes.”
With that parting blow, I strode away. If she thought her words would hurt me, she was dead wrong. Over the years, I’d figured out how to deal with people like her. Never back down and never show weakness, because the moment they realized they’d found a soft spot, they’d use every weapon in their arsenal to pummel you into the ground. And I had no intention of being brought down by a rich daddy’s girl.
Chapter Eight
Reese
Fighting the urge to run or skip, I anxiously quick-marched to my cubicle. I was desperate to discover my assignment. Anticipation tickled my insides. I pulled open the top desk drawer. Sitting on top of my pens and notebooks was a slightly bulging nondescript manila envelope.
Making sure the coast was clear, I grabbed the envelope and shoved it into my oversized tote, and without even sitting down or turning on my computer, I hurried to the restroom eager to find out if my cum-encrusted panties were inside.
I was sure Kane was watching me, checking to see if I was doing what he’d asked. I smiled at every camera I passed, wanting him to know how anxious I was to begin.
Linda, the manager of my floor, was the only other person in the restroom. She was busy studying her reflection and checking her chalk white teeth for lipstick stains. I’d never seen her lips any other shade than fire-engine red.
She turned her unlined face to me; her brown eyes pinched with annoyance. For someone closer to forty than thirty, Linda could pass for twenty-five. She was a fan of surgical procedures and fighting the aging process tooth and nail. When she died, because of all the chemical compounds she’d pumped into her body, she wouldn’t need embalming. “I’m beginning to think you have an ongoing UTI issue, Reese. I’ve never known anyone who goes to the bathroom as much as you do.”
I shrugged and gave her an easy smile. “Um, I have a weak bladder. Plus, I drink way too much caffeine.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to applying her lipstick. “I want us to sit down for another evaluation this week. I like you, Reese, you work hard and are a whizz with spreadsheets and databases, but your timekeeping is abysmal. Were you like this at your old company?”