“You’ll get it by the deadline we agreed upon,” Doughnut Guy snaps, taking another box then sweeping out.
“Ugh.” I slump at the table. “That did not go as planned.”
“I’ll say. I think you just tanked my stock price, Cupcake.”
9
MCCARTHY
“Oh my god,” Jenna moans as she drives across town to the Rainier Investment tower. “What a disaster.”
“Yeah, my brother’s going to be pissed. Looks like the end of the road for you, Jenna. I hope you took my advice and began searching for other jobs, because you’re not working for me anymore.”
It had taken only two days to get rid of her.
Only?I should immediately have had her running away screaming like that one dough-handed man Prism had sent over last week.
I’m losing my touch.
But a win is a win.
“Oh my god.” She’s hyperventilating. “I’m going tolose my job.”
“That ten-step plan isn’t panning out, is it?” I needle her. “My brother is not going to be amused when he finds out how much money you cost him. Not to mention…” I flip Salinger’s credit card in my hand. “The sheer amount of food and alcohol you put on Salinger’s credit card.”
That almost makes Jenna plow into the back of a mom van.
“You—”
“We’re probably going to sue Prism. You’re going to be blacklisted in the industry. No one in this city will hire you.”
I search the mirror. Her pupils are blown open. Like she’s putting all her efforts into not crying.
I can break anyone.
She parks in the garage at Rainer Investment, so frazzled that she scrapes the side of my brother’s car.
“Crap.”
“Yeah, I don’t think your boss is going to like this,” I say as she carries all her crap out of the car.
“Bethany’s here?”
“Maybe.” I draw the word out and shrug, letting her stew in anxiety in the elevator.
“How did I screw this up?” she moans.
“It’s a mystery, isn’t it?”
“I’m good at my job.”
“I beg to differ.”
Carrying her bags of stuff, she follows me as I make my victory parade to the glass-enclosed conference room, where several of my brothers are waiting—including Crawford.
While the rest of my full-blooded brothers are all wearing suits, my older half brother is in his heavy black canvas pants and leather bomber jacket, his booted feet up on Salinger’s pristine Brazilian-hardwood conference table.
My older brother’s scowl at Crawford turns downright murderous when he sees me.
