Maybe Miles was right to hire her after all. We’re always in need of fresh talent, and degree or not, the coffee cart was a waste of her time.
There’s a knock at my door and when I glance up, Beck is leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed. “Miles and I are ready when you are, but you’d better hurry. You know how cranky he gets when he’s hungry.”
I nod. “Give me a minute to finish this up and I’ll be over.”
“One minute.” He taps the face of his smartwatch before retreating to the executive conference room.
I scroll back to the top of Scarlett’s file, and I’m about to close out when I see my name. I freeze, mouse hovering over the X in the upper right corner of the screen.
Don’t even think about it. Close the damn file.
They’re her private thoughts.
Not meant to be shared.
And yet… Here they are on the company cloud. It’s practically public domain. Anyone at Triada could read them if they bothered to look.
I push my hesitation aside and resume reading.
CEO/CFO Nick (aka Hartless)
Canned opening greeting…because God forbid Mr. Perfect go off-script when he can recite the same cold, insincere speech he’s been using for the last three weeks.
Real estate update due by EOD…says the arrogant prick who clearly missed the interoffice memo on work-life balance.
Investor reports to be revised ASAP per example…because the uptight control freak doesn’t trust his team to do it right without step-by-step instructions.
Christ. It gets worse with each line. Does she really think I’m such a cold-hearted bastard? She’s certainly made me out to be one. But what does it matter? She doesn’t know me.
It wasonemeeting.
That you can remember.
How many others has she been in, sitting quietly in the corner, observing and analyzing?Judging. Far too many, if her commentary is any indication.
Hartless.
The word echoes through my thoughts, dredging up memories of Ashley and the steaming pile of lies and half-truths she told the media after we split up. Ugly memories bubble to the surface, and the pang of betrayal strikes deep in my chest, fresh and new.
So much for time healing all wounds.
I scrub a hand over my face. If I’d known then what I know now, maybe things would be different. But I can’t go back and change the past, even if I wanted to.
Hartless.
This is bullshit. I’m not the cold, unfeeling monster the media has made me out to be. And I’m going to prove it.
By the time I’m through, Scarlett Evans will eat her words.
Chapter Six
Nick
When I enter the conference room, Miles and Beck are already seated at the long table, bags of takeout intermixed with laptops and tablets. I take up my usual spot, doing my damnedest to put Scarlett Evans and her scathing notes out of my mind. After all, we’re here to talk business.
With our hectic schedules, it’s the only time we can catch up face-to-face, aside from Sunday dinners with Mama Hart.
But she doesn’t allow business talk at her table.
