Page 52 of Zach
she doesn’t change it.
“Your appearance may have nothing to do with who you are, but it tells the world a lot about you,
Maya. And right now, you’re telling the world you don’t give a fuck.”
Her head tilts, her shiny dark hair falling over her breast. I have to pull my eyes away from the
ends, curled on the awful fabric. Who the fuck wears bugs on their clothes? Kindergarteners, that’s
who.
Her cheeks redden, and she closes the distance between us. “I meet the dress code as outlined in
the interview. I made very sure of it. And as my boss, that’s all you should care about. Nowhere in the
employee handbook does it say I have to be pretty. So you can take your judgmental attitude and shove
it.”
No, she’s not pretty. I know pretty. She’s more…stunning, riveting…fascinating. And all I can
wonder is what it would take to get her to poke me in the chest with that finger she’s waving under my
nose. I want to feel her touching me. I let a little of my inner asshole out just to see how far I can push
her. “You could put a little effort in.”
That does it. Her long finger with the blunt, unpainted nail pokes me in the middle of my chest,
and that little fear niggling in the back of my head fires into full-blown panic. Because somehow, this
mousy woman’s touch lights me up more than any of the women I’ve ever fucked. And that’s
terrifying. How the hell does her finger on my shirt feel better than being buried inside the blonde
from this weekend?
“Do you want me to go? Because I can. I can be on a plane to anywhere in the world in a few
hours, and you can go back to life as you know it. Then you can find someone else to work for you.
Someone who meets your standards.”
I’ve never felt like this and wondering what else I might do to feel more of it is what forces me to
slide away from her. Her words register and I can’t stop the instinctive “No.” I don’t want her to go.
For Jonas. That’s the only reason. I made a promise to him.
Yeah, sure, that’s the only reason. It’s not because you’re fucking fascinated by her.
She backs up and crosses her arms, rubbing her biceps. Her voice is low, sad. “Your brother gave
me some good advice today. He told me not to change for anyone. That people have to accept me the
way that I am.” Her chin lifts, and she waves at herself. “Take it or leave it. Either way, decide soon.”
She spins and stalks from the room, and I drop into a rolling chair and drop my chin to my chest.Take
