Page 15 of His for Christmas
Noah shook his head. “He won’t understand this. Someone’s going to take the fall, and it’s going to be me.”
The way he said it was full of conviction, as if he was determined to be the one. As if there might be someone else to do it.
Mr. Thompson’s message appeared on my screen. Send him in.
“He’s ready to see you now.” I tried for a supportive expression—but I was pretty sure I failed. I’d seen exactly how the boss could be when he was pissed, and apparently he was pissed at Noah Waters. I had a feeling we were going to see the Big Bad Billionaire very soon, as if the white-winter sun outside was a moon, ready to turn the man into a monster. He would howl, and he would snap. I just hoped Noah would still be standing when Mr. Thompson turned back.
As Noah walked to the office and opened the door, another message popped up in the IM console. Do the other assholes that work for me flirt with you?
I stared at the message, shocked more by the tone of intimacy than the actual question. The tone of possession. It almost sounded like he was jealous. Which was ridiculous considering he’d touched me, he’d kissed my skin. He’d made me come, and then discarded me like it was all a big mistake.
It had been a mistake, I reminded myself. So where did he get off acting jealous?
I typed into the IM console. Noah was just being nice.
I glanced at the office, where the door was cracked open. I couldn’t see inside, but I imagined Noah sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk, waiting nervously for Mr. Thompson to acknowledge him. But Mr. Thompson must have been typing because a new message appeared.
Like I was nice to you?
I rolled my eyes. Sometimes smart people could be very stupid. Have a good meeting, I typed and shut the window.
Except it wasn’t a good meeting. Over the next twenty minutes I listened through the opening in the door as Mr. Thompson blasted Noah for some mistake that had cost the company a lot of money. Based on the way Noah was defending himself—or rather, wasn’t defending himself—it was a valid criticism. Still, I winced as Mr. Thompson’s anger seemed to grow stronger with every passing minute.
And I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d somehow made it worse by talking to Noah while we waited. Even though I knew I’d done nothing wrong.
“Pack your shit,” I heard Mr. Thompson say. “And get out of my building.”
My eyes widened. Without thinking out a plan, I was up from my seat. I crossed the short space and pushed the door open in time to see a defeated Noah standing up, his shoulders slumped and smile long gone.
“I’m sorry for disappointing you, sir,” Noah said stiffly.
“Wait,” I said. “You can’t fire him.”
Mr. Thompson sent me an icy glare. “What are you doing?”
Noah’s eyes widened. Concern creased his forehead. “Yeah, Angel. What are you doing?”
Of course Mr. Thompson didn’t miss the use of my first name. His eyes narrowed. And the truth was, I didn’t know what I was doing. This was how I got myself into trouble, doing things without thinking them through. Leaving home because I knew I couldn’t stay. Holding my boyfriend’s boxes even though I knew they held illegal stuff, because he’d protected me on the streets. Lying on the job application because it was the only way I could work.
And now here I was, standing in front of the Big Bad Billionaire, probably about to lose my job for an entirely different reason. I licked my lips, fighting with myself. How the hell was I going to get out of this? But I was already neck-deep and sinking fast. “I’m just suggesting you rethink your position. Maybe he could find a way to fix his mistake at the beginning of the New Year.”
“He lost the company over a million dollars.”
My eyes widened. That was a lot of money. Still… “It’s a week before Christmas,” I said weakly. “You can’t fire someone right before Christmas.”
“Can,” Mr. Thompson said. “Just did. It’s called making a point. In fact, I can do it again if you want another demonstration?”
Oh shit, I couldn’t be fired. Not when I’d done everything right. Except for keeping my mouth shut.
“Angel,” Noah said. “Don’t get yourself in trouble over me. It’s not worth it.”
“Listen to him,” Mr. Thompson said. “He’s really not.”
I narrowed my eyes. I may not be the brightest person in the room—definitely wasn’t—but I knew how to stand up for myself. In fact, getting picked on my whole life had taught me not to back down. “Is that supposed to impress me? The Big Bad Billionaire is going to blow my house down?”
