“Why?”
“Your contract has you tied to this agency for twenty-four months after leaving,” I reminded her. “And you cannottouchyour clients while they are signed to my agency.” Angel looked at me in exasperation. “Yes, you forgot about the restrictive covenant clause, didn’t you? It’s good one of us is smart, isn’t it?”
“My clients can choose to break contracts,” she snipped at me.
“Yes, they can. Tell me, Angel, are you worth it to them?” I leaned back and assessed her. “You think they’ll pay millions to leavemefor you?”
“I’ll manage,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Hmm, you probably will.” At my tone, she looked at me curiously. “And you see, therein lies my problem.”
It was Angel’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “You want me to stay?”
“Fuck no, I want you to fuck off and crawl back to your Transylvanian rock.”
“My grandparents areRomanian, which you know damn well,” she snapped at me.
“Potato, po-tah-to,” I shrugged.
“Why are we locked in here if you don’t want me to leave?” She looked confused. She should. “You don’t want me to quit, you don’t want to fire me. What is it?”
“Firstly, Idowant to fire you. Secondly, I would be delirious with happiness if you quit, but,” I yawned, “I just can’t bebothered with the paperwork.” Plus, she made the boardroom tolerable. Sometimes.
Angel’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Leaning back in the seat, I slung my arm over the back of it as I slouched. “Do you know how much fucking paperwork is involved? Contract terminations, revenue returns, healthcare, taxes, it’s obscene.”
“You have a legal department.You’rean attorney.”
“Exactly. Who do you think has to approve everything?” I yawned again. “No, you’ll stay here. You’ll formally apologize, of course. You can say it’s . . . stress. Or Aunt Flo.” I winked when she looked at me in outrage. “We’ll say you got a verbal warning, which you did . . . loosely.”
“You justwarnedme not to leave because you can’t be bothered with the paperwork.”
“Would you rather I lie?”
“You’re such a complete ass,” Angel told me with amazement. “How the hell do you get an ego like that?”
“It’s not ego, it’s confidence, and you get it from being the best,” I told her as I stood. “And your clients know it too, which is why when they get the chance to sign withme, they dump your pasty ass. At the moment, this works for me and for the agency.” Leaning over her, I grinned down at her. “It’s like you’re my own personal scout.” I patted her cheek and bit back my smile as she glared murder at me. “Now, let’s make the apology quick, and try to be heartfelt; no one likes a faker, and God knows you’re a terrible actress.”
“I’m not sorry,” she told me. “No one will believe this, this is such bullshit.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I said to her as I walked to the door.
“You just want me to make a fool of myself,” Angel guessed.
“You’re so good at it,” I said as I looked at her over my shoulder. “Now remember, I may not be interested in mountainsof paperwork, but you pull this shit in my boardroom again, in front of my staff, and I’ll pack your desk myself. Understood?”
I saw her debate her options. Her pride wanted her to leave, her nature . . . that stubborn nature of hers refused to give me the satisfaction of quitting. Which is why, five minutes later, Angel gave me a formal apology as she practically vibrated with rage beside me. She even apologized to her co-workers, which was a clever touch, as it made her fake ass apology to me seem more sincere.
“Thank you, Angel, we all know what it’s like to have an . . .offday.”
Her smile was tight as she turned to walk away from me to her office.
“Oh, and I’ll need that contract for the Carmichael boy,” I called softly after her and watched with amusement as she froze before she turned to look at me. “Just email it to Liz,” I added as I poured a coffee.
“Ryan?”
Looking up at her, I nodded. “Unless there are more freshman college students you are pursuing in your free time?”
