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When he glanced up at her, the look on his face echoed her thought. Yep, she got it. He was always busy. The man was a workaholic. He never seemed to stop. She wondered what he was like at home. Whether he ever changed out of his ubiquitous suit. Not that he didn’t look really good in a suit.
Really good.
But sometimes she wondered what he’d look like in, well, nothing at all.
Not the time, Thea.
“Are you well? You look flushed.”
She could grab onto it as an excuse. Or tell him her hand was hurting. She was certain he’d let her have time off for either of those things. But she couldn’t do that. She cleared her throat.
“Actually, I need to leave. See, my brothers have run into some trouble at their school. And I—”
“Are you their legal guardian?”
She wished she were. But she’d warned them against saying anything about their father until she was sure she was in a position where child services would leave them in her care. She needed a steady job and a better place for them to live. But once they were hers, then she wouldn’t have to stay and suffer the asshole’s abuse. She’d worn a high-necked, black shirt today, which also had long sleeves, to hide the bruises on her wrist and neck. It was going to be hot as hell on the bus going home since it wasn’t air-conditioned like this building, but she didn’t have much choice.
“Well, no, but—”
“Then let your parents take care of it.”
“My mom has been dead for five years and my dad is, uh, busy.” That wasn’t a lie. She was sure he was busy drinking or sleeping.
“So are you.”
“I have to go.”
“Leave and you’ll be fired.” No anger. No irritation. His voice was tinged with ice.
“Fine. I’ll quickly pack up my stuff. Thank you for everything.” She turned away, cursing herself for that last part. Why had she thanked him? He’d just fired her. No doubt he’d blackball her like he said he would do with Jenny.
Idiot.
She’d reached her desk when he came thundering out of the office. “Excuse me?”
“Um, which part didn’t you hear?” she asked, hoping it was the last part.
“The part where you said, ‘Yes, sir,’ and got back to work.”
Her temper stirred. “You fired me.”
“I’m always firing you!” he shot back. “You never leave!”
She wouldn’t say he was always firing her. It’d only happened twice.
“Well, this time I’m going.”
She picked up her photo of the boys. She didn’t have a lot of personal stuff. Jardin reached out and snatched the frame back out of her hand, putting it on the desk.
Her hands went to her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“The photo stays.”
“You hate that photo. You hate me having anything personal at work.”
“And yet I’ve allowed the photo to stay these past two months. Just like you.”
“You’ve allowed me to stay? Seriously?” Now she was getting angry.
