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“I see that you specialize in viral marketing?”
“Yes,” I answer again, wondering what the point of this is.
Like I said before, I’m the kind of girl that would like to just get right to it. Delaying the inevitable is just making me sick with apprehension.
His eyes snap up, locking on mine. “Would you say your salary is adequate for what you provide the company?”
The sudden touch of his eyes jolts me a bit. My heart flutters and my stomach clenches.
Is this a trick question?
I hesitate, unsure how to answer, and his expression hardens. “Well, Miss Adams? Is it?”
Damn, I really wish he wouldn’t look at me like that. It reminds me too much of the face he made when he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head.
Last night was supposed to be a fling. An immersion in my own little personal fantasyland. God, if I only knew I’d be facing off against him today across a desk, I would have done everything different.
“Yes,” I say, and then clear my throat, resisting the urge to shift in my seat. “I feel that my salary is adequate.”
He snaps the file shut, and it’s so loud and ominous I wince. Here it comes, this is where he tells me to pack my things and don’t let the door hit me in the ass.
“So you’re able to afford everything you need?”
I blink at him, not following.
“You’re able to afford food, clothing, and housing on your salary?” he clarifies.
What the hell? Does he somehow know of the debt I’m in? Dammit, I bet he ran a credit check on me. Shit.
His eyes glare into me. “Do you need me to repeat the question?”
I shake my head. Fuck it, he probably knows everything about me already and is only doing this to mess with me.
“I take the odd job here and there to make ends meet,” I answer stiffly.
His face flushes with anger and his jaw clenches so hard I’m surprised I don’t hear his teeth cracking.
“So you’re not able to afford everything you need,” he states harshly.
Hearing those words come out of his mouth is like a punch to the gut. Shame and humiliation wash over me when he puts it like that. If he wanted to make me feel bad about last night, all he had to do was bring it up.
But this? Making me feel inadequate by pointing out that I’m struggling to take care of myself? That’s a low blow and hitting me right where I’m weakest. Boss or not, he has no right to pry into my personal business, and despite what happened last night, I don’t deserve to be treated like this.
Pride pricked, I jump up from my seat. My first instinct is to tell him to go fuck himself, but that would drop me to his level.
Swallowing back the words, I take a deep breath, and surprise myself with the dignity I manage to show.
“You know what, don’t bother firing me. I quit.”
“Zoe…” he says, but I turn away and ignore him.
I’m so done with this. I should have just quit the moment he walked into the conference room. I knew nothing good would come from being alone with him. Yet, like a lost little puppy, he commanded me to follow and I obeyed him.
With tears burning in the corners of my eyes, it’s all I can do not to make a run for the exit. The need to flee, to escape, tingles through my limbs. I just want to get out of here before he destroys what little of my dignity I have left.
“Zoe, wait,” Bry says, closer, but again I ignore it.
I knew he’d turn out to be a jerk. I knew it. They all are in the end.
Just when it feels like life is finally giving me a break, a little bit of happiness, it rips it away and hands me this shit.
I make it halfway to the door before something locks down on my arm. I glance down in confusion at the hand restraining me then I’m spun around.
“Let me go!” I demand, and give my arm a hard jerk.
His grip tightens around me and his sharp jaw tenses. “No.”
I gape at him. His audacity is so astounding I’m momentarily speechless.
Lids lowering, dark eyes blazing, he takes a step into me, forcing me to take a step back.
A flare of panic slices through my humiliation.
I try once more to yank my arm out of his grip.
“You can’t do this. You can’t trap me here after I quit, it’s illegal,” I point out.
His hand suddenly releases my arm, but before I can slip around him and make it to the exit, he crowds me into the wall with his body.
“I don’t care. I let you get away once, I’m not letting you get away again,” he declares as his hands hit the wall.
