Page 63 of Handsome Devil
I still didn’t even know why he’d fired Claire. I’d called her, but didn’t get an answer. She was probably putting her kids to bed or something.
As if we needed to lose any good people. Claire was a good person, so whatever she’d done professionally to piss him off, I really couldn’t say.
Unless he just planned to remove all the nice people from this office, and replace them one-by-one with condescending dicks like himself?
Earlier, one of his minions had come and gone, a man named Wiley who said he was Dane’s senior PA. He was almost as chilly as Dane was. He’d called me “Debbie” more than once, though I didn’t bother correcting him after the first time I tried and he didn’t seem to absorb it.
Still better than having to talk to Dane.
When Dane returned to the office after dinner, I didn’t see him until he had Lizzie gather us for the staff meeting. By then, Wiley was long gone. And Chaz looked disgruntled that he’d been torn away from his deep web search—evidently, he was still looking for the sex tape.
Dane didn’t even look at me as he explained to the staff very matter-of-factly that the agency had been bleeding money. That he was here to “fix” things, that he probably wouldn’t be here for more than a few days, and that we’d have a new manager coming in to take over as soon as possible. He also told us that Janelle was let go because she was “irresponsible” with the finances, that she’d been engaging in “unethical business practices,” and that as long as no one else was found doing the same, our jobs were safe.
It felt like a cold comfort coming from that man.
Especially when, soon after the meeting, he fired Claire.
It was a terrible position to be in: sitting in my office trying to work, Googling my employer, and wondering which of my coworkers was going to be struck with the scythe next.
And if it was going to be me.
I’d never engaged in any “unethical business practices,” as far as I saw it. However, since I had no idea what the fuck he was even talking about, who the hell knew howhesaw it.
About half an hour ago, I’d finally gone ahead and told the rest of the staff to go home. No reason Dane Davenport should ruin all our lives at once.
When he finally stepped out of “his” office, he looked kind of burnt out. His shirt sleeves were still rolled up and his tie loosened, his jacket over his arm and outrageously expensive briefcase in hand. His hair was ever-so-slightly askew, as if he’d been clawing through it for a while, and he looked weirdly in need of a hug.
I grimaced.
That hard, deliciously sculpted body… so sculpted that you could tell how sculpted it was, even in a suit. Those strong arms… tailor made to envelope a woman in a hug.
Totally wasted on his evil ass.
He glanced at my office and caught me looking.
I straightened back up from the ninety degree angle I’d contorted myself into in order to see him through my window, and locked my eyes on my computer screen.
He tapped on my window and when I looked up, in no particular hurry, he opened the door and leaned in. “Why don’t you go home,” he suggested, not so gently.
“Why don’t you go home?” I replied, enunciating carefully. And yes, I was implying that he fly his assall the wayhome, to Toronto.
He didn’t miss it.
His amazing green eyes twitched a little, but the man was stone cold. I had no idea if I could even faze him at all, really.
He’d been even chillier since our little power struggle unfolded over email this afternoon. And make no mistake, it was definitely a power struggle. Both of us prodding for weaknesses while the other prodded back.
Even that whole scene in his office, when he got in my face… Asking me if I liked it when he kissed me in high school?
Nothing but a power play.
He was testing me. Dipping way over the line of unprofessional into could-trigger-a-lawsuit territory, and he didn’t even care. Because he knew this was personal for me. That I’d never let this office and this agency get dragged into the headlines, into some scandal involving the star of a sex tape. I’d protect the agency, first and foremost.
Therefore, I’d fight him quietly and venomously in his office and that was about it.
The animosity between us originated in a few stupid moments in high school, nothing more. He had no reason to fuck with me otherwise.
So, he was trying to ruffle me.
