No sign of Jackson.
I’m sitting at my desk, taking deep breaths through my nose, trying to remain calm and get into the right headspace for this. After all, I am the boss, and it would be hypocritical, not to mention extremely unprofessional, to demand Jackson treat me with respect while screaming at him. I wanted to approach this calmly. Like two normal grown-ass adults in any work setting.
So much for that idea.
I thunder down the stairs and charge outside, searching for him. “Have you seen Jackson?” I ask a couple of stable hands.
“Went into the break room,” one of them responds.
“Great. Thanks.”
I storm into the break room, my chest on fire. If Jackson wants to take the hard route and fight me on every little thing, I’m up for it. More than up for it. I’m a nice guy, but if he keeps pushing me, I can and will make his life difficult.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“What’s it look like I’m doing?” he says without looking up from the coffee machine.
I stomp the floor in pure frustration. “Why aren’t you in my office?”
He turns around, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Did you just stamp your foot?”
“No.”
“Oh, I think you did. I think you’re used to everyone around you rolling over and giving you what you want.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You call out like I’m some fucking servant and just expect me to drop whatever I’m doing to come running over to you so I can meet a friend?”
What? That’s not what I did. Or, at least, it’s not what I intended. I just…wanted him to meet Ollie since he wasn’t there on the Fourth.
“That’s not the point,” I counter.
“Then what is?”
He takes a step closer, lifting the mug to his lips, his green eyes squinting, locked on me with an unnerving intensity.
“My point is that you can’t speak to me like that. I’m your boss.”
“No. You’re the owner.”
“Same thing.”
“World of difference.”
“What is your problem, Jackson? I thought we were…” I tighten my fists until I feel my nails dig into my skin.Keep things professional, Maverick.“We can’t keep going on like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like pretending that we don’t have to work together. You’re right, I am the owner, and you’re the head handler. That means there are many areas where our responsibilities overlap. I’ve given you a month to get used to the fact that I’ve taken over, but I’m done acting like our work paths never cross because they do. They cross over a hell of a lot, in fact.”
“Oh, how convenient. We had a deal, remember? I leave you alone, and you stay the hell out of my way.”
My jaw pulses. “Don’t speak to me like that again.”
He takes a slow sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving me. “Or what?”
I drift closer toward him. “You don’t want to find out. Trust me.”
