And damn it if that British accent wasn’t doing things to me.
“Of course not. I was just letting you know.” I stumbled over my words.
“Ms. Vendetti.” My name on his lips sounded like some sort of promise.
I leaned in, anxious to hear what he would say next. “Yes.”
“The phone is ringing. Tend to it.” He returned to the notepad in front of him.
Shit. “Of course.” I scurried out of his office and picked up the phone. The call had already dropped but I pretended it hadn’t. “Mr. Noble’s office, how can I help you?”
The rest of the day went more or less the same way. Nothing pleased Declan. When I brought him coffee, it wasn’t hot enough. When I brought him papers to sign, he didn’t like the color tabs I had chosen to mark the spots where he needed to sign or initial. When I brought in his next appointment, he scowled at me for not announcing Mr. Bryant first. His freaking door was wide open, and I could see he wasn’t busy, so why did I need to announce him first as if we were at court?
The man was insufferable. As the day wore on, he seemed less and less attractive. Okay, no that was a big fat lie. He seemed even hotter. Especially during our introductory meeting. He had already figured out how the hackers had been able to access the servers and had done a quick mock design of how the new infrastructure should look. His design was smart, and to use Casey’s word, elegant. Everythingabout Declan Winston Noble was exactly that—smart and elegant. From the way he wore his expensive suit, the way he spoke, and his overall energy and passion for his work.
“Ms. Vendetti.” His voice boomed from his office.
This late in the day, almost everyone had gone. I had been sitting at my desk waiting for him to dismiss me. Casey had mentioned he liked it when his assistants stayed as late as him. I grabbed my iPad in case I needed to take notes and strode into his office. I had been so busy and flustered all day, I hadn’t noticed what a gorgeous view of the city he had. The tall windows let in plenty of light during the day, but at this late hour, his office was dim-lit. He seemed so at home sitting behind his mahogany desk with all those books lining the wall. I knew the books weren’t his, but the whole thing just suited him. He belonged in this corporate world the way I yearned to do one day. I glanced down at my hands. I’d waited a lifetime to fit in, not just here, but in the world in general, with my family, my boyfriend’s family. Everywhere I went, I just didn’t seem to click.
“Did you need something?” I asked after a minute of standing in the middle of his office in complete silence.
“This is for you.” He pushed an envelope toward me and shot me a quick glance before he returned to his work on the computer.
I slowly stepped forward as my eyes welled up with tears—I had a pretty good idea what the envelope was for. When I opened it, I found a check made out to me for five thousand dollars. What did this mean exactly?
“What is this for?” I asked.
“I’ve arranged for someone else to take over for you in themorning.”
“You’re firing me?” I leaned my palm on his desk. And I didn’t care that my Brooklyn accent had shown up in my question. I was pissed. He jerked me around all day, only to fire me now? He was a real bastard for stringing me along. “You can’t do that.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I mean. Why?”
“I think we both know why, Isla. I can’t have.” He stopped to swallow as if looking for the right words. “I expect everyone on my team to behave in a manner that makes Noble Consulting proud. I do not need my people to waste their time around the water cooler talking about sex clubs and gambling.”
“What? What are you talking about? What club?” I skipped the sex word because, wow, that single syllable sounded way too hot coming from him.
“The Crucible, from last night. It’s a sex club. Are you seriously telling me you didn’t know that?”
Hold up. What? Was this about me going to a sex club or me knowing he was at sex club. “I didn’t know. But now that I do. I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”
“What?” He furrowed his brows.
“Well, you know. You were there, too.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, so you can hit a sex club, but I can’t?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you. Good luck to you, Ms. Vendetti. Shut the door on your way out.” He pointed at the check in my hand.
I glanced down at it. “Is this bribe money or pity money becauseyou feel like a jerk for firing me?”
His head snapped up, eyes wide in surprise. Did he really think I was going to stand here and take it? He was being unfair. This double standard was bullshit.
“Neither. It’s severance pay.”
