He looked around at the empty building; they were currently standing in the proposed food court. “Didn’t I say floor-to-ceiling windows?” he asked, pointing at the cavernous holes in the wall. But it wasn’t really a question. “Ididsay floor-to-ceiling windows, so that people can look out over the city when eating, so that this place can have at least one redeeming feature to it.” He raised his voice and turned to the architect, who quickly nodded at him.
“Miss Granger,” he turned to her. “Please make a note that they must redo these windows here and make them floor to ceiling.”
She nodded, but looked at him blankly. She took a small step forward and whispered. “I didn’t know I needed to bring a notepad.”
He sighed. “Can someone please give my assistant a pen and paper to write on?” He looked at the others, but none of them moved. “Don’t tell me no one here has a pen and paper on him?” he asked, getting irritated.
The architect jumped. “I have some old plans she can use.” He fetched a massive sheet of paper from a bench and passed it over to Doris. The paper was almost the same size as her. It dwarfed her . . .and then she tried to fold it!They all watched as she wrestled with the massive sheet, holding one side between her knees while she brawled with the top half, trying to bend it into shape. When she realized that clearly wasn’t going to work, she threw it down on the ground and climbed on top of it. Shuffling across it on her knees, she tried to fold the massive thing. And, adding to the spectacle, her yellow hard hat kept falling off her head. And it only got worse . . .
She turned, still on all fours, her ass now pointing in their direction (much like it had been under his desk), and crawled across the paper again. He could feel the mood around him change. He needed to put an end to this. Having them all look at her like this was, was . . .
His stomach tightened.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Miss Granger.” He stomped over to her and, without a moment’s hesitation, pulled her back up onto her feet. She was so light. He picked up the massive sheet of paper and tore it in half, then in half again. He folded all the pieces together into a makeshift notebook of sorts and passed it over to her.
“Oh. That . . .” she mumbled, taking the paper in her hands.
“Right, now where were we?” He turned away from her and started talking again, acutely aware of the scribbling sound coming from behind him now. This woman was a bit like a noisy bulldozer. Everywhere she went, she seemed to leave a drama behind her, usually a loud one. I mean, in the last week she’d evacuated his entire building, attacked his lawyer and sent him to hospital. What was next?
And of course, all of this really did beg the big question, the billion-dollar one: why was he still employing her and why the hell could he not seem to get her out of his thoughts?
He sighed. He wished he had the answer to this wildly inconvenient question.
CHAPTERFIFTY
Poppy
Fuckity, fuck.
Nothing was going my way here. I was barely able to walk, and now I was trying to take notes too. These two tasks might seem simple, but when you combine them in this environment, they were not! And they talked so fast. Throwing out words and phrases that I’d never heard of in my life . . .
Bifurcate. Programmatic adjacencies. Optimizing special adjacencies. What on earth did it all mean?
And of course, I dared not interrupt them and ask what something meant. It was clear I was already in the dog house withhim. Why do I need this job again?I mentally asked myself. Oh yes, the landlord and the small rent issue—not to mention the small bank issue, lack of food issue . . . The list could go on.
The meeting seemed to last forever. Traipsing up escalators that weren’t moving, which you know are hell to walk up, because your body expects them to move, but they don’t, so your legs feel strange when you take steps. And then I came to a section I wasn’t sure I would be able to manage. A ladder stood in front of me. It rose up to a hole in the roof. Everyone had already gone up it and now it was my turn. I rolled the papers up and was just about to shove them under my arm, when a hand came through the hole.
“I’ll take the papers, it will make it easier.” It was Ryan, and I was shocked. Now he was being helpful? But I was grateful for the offer, and gave him my notes.
“Be careful of the pole at the top,” he said and then disappeared,
“Pole?” I asked, but he was already gone.
I gripped the sides of the ladder and carefully, slowly, took my first step. I immediately slipped.
“Crap,” I hissed under my breath. This was ridiculous! I was scrambling up a ladder to join a man who clearly didn’t even want me here in the first place. I was as welcome here as herpes. I was sure my time would be better served sitting in the car and twiddling my fingers. I took another step, trying to balance on the toes of my high heels, but I slipped again. “Crapping hell!” I took my shoes off; there was no way I was climbing a ladder in heels. I put one of the shoes under my arm, and reluctantly clamped the other one between my teeth. I needed to free up at least one hand to hold the bloody ladder.
This time, it was much easier and I managed to make it all the way to the top. But that’s when I saw the pole. Jutting out of the concrete floor, making the space even smaller to climb through. I removed the shoe from between my teeth, and the taste of fake leather filled my mouth. I spat a few times, trying to rid myself of the ghastly flavor. I then carefully reached up and threw the shoe through the hole. But then disaster struck as I tried to get the other shoe out from under my arm . . .
I lost my balance.
I felt my body topple, wobble and then start to fall. “Fuuuuck!” I cried as I plummeted. But then, like magic, as if something had answered my scream for help, my body jerked back with a long, loud, spine-chilling tearing sound. I’d stopped falling. I was hanging. Suspended in the air like a puppet on strings, my arms and legs flapping from side to side.
What the hell was holding me up like this?And then I felt the hard, poking sensation in my back. The pole had pierced my shirt, and I was dangling from it.
“Oh. My. God!” How the hell was I supposed to get off this? And then . . .
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiip!My whole body fell a centimeter.
