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“Aaron. Give that back. Please.”
He raised his eyebrows, and I knew right away what he wanted. “Mr. Stump,” I corrected. “Please.”
With one last dismissive snort, he closed the folder and handed it over. I took it quickly and tucked it under my arm.
“Normally I might let an employee go for something like this, knowing they were planning their escape right under my nose.”
“You’re not going to do that?”
He shook his head. “I get having dreams. But I also get how naive someone like you could be. You know what kind of undertaking it is to open a place like this?” He gestured to the office around him. “More than you’re capable of, believe me—I’ve worked with you long enough to know you don’t really have the, call it a ‘killer instinct’ that you need to make it as a small-business owner. Let alone secure the loan.”
“Excuse me?”
That wasn’t all.
“Not to mention that you’re a woman!” he said, as though he were pointing out an obvious flaw in my plans, like I was legless and just told him I wanted to be a long-distance runner.
“What…what the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Shania, business is a man’s world. Out front? Looking pretty like Jules or being the doting message specialist that the job requires? That’s more suited to a woman’s temperament.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Are you serious? What is this, 1950?”
“Simpler time back then. But I’m right. You’ve got big ideas, but you’d be in over your head before you knew what hit you. And believe me—I’m doing you a favor by laying it out for you like this.”
I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to punch him or quit on the spot. Then again, it wasn’t like I could afford to lose my job.
“Your place is here. With me. And look how nice I am looking past all of this! You’re lucky to have such an understanding, patient boss, you know.”
Patience, Shania. Keep it together. Do not blow up.
I gritted my teeth until my pissed-off—and justifiably so—mood faded enough to speak without calling him every cuss in the book.
“Are we done?”
“We’re done. Now, finish your shift and get on over to Mr. Maddox’s. I only want to hear good things.”
I didn’t wait. Seconds later I was out of that office, even more determined than ever to make my escape.
No matter what it took.
Chapter Five
SHANIA
I was out of that place so fast when my shift ended that I was pretty sure I’d left one of those cartoon smoke outlines in the shape of my body behind, like when the Road Runner hightailed it away from Wile E. Coyote in some old Looney Toons thing, gift basket in tow.
Man, was I steamed. And the second I was behind the wheel of my ten-plus-year-old Accord, I let it all out.
“What. A. Prick!” I shouted, the frustration I’d held in check for the last several hours finally busting loose. “’Business is a man’s world?’ Who the hell even says that?”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I clamped my hands down on my lips, my eyes going wide. Just my luck Stump would be walking by at the moment, ready to hear my muffled voice through the car.
Thankfully, that didn’t happen. But I did have something else to worry about. I glanced over at the gift basket packed full of fancy soaps and moisturizers and bubble bath stuff and scented candles. Jules could be a pain in the ass, for sure, but I had to admit she could put together a hell of a gift basket.
Then again, whether Sean was the kind of guy to actually put this stuff to use was another question.
Sean. God, of course I had to be the one to make the delivery. Stump, sexist dick or not, did have a point about me needing to make things right. I should’ve been more professional. Wardrobe slipups happen in massage rooms. They just did. And it hadn’t been a harassing or a threatening encounter—I’d for damn sure have stood up to Stump if it had been—but it was just awkward. For both of us. And it was within my skill set to smooth things over, to act like the professional I was, and I hadn’t. So, fair enough. That was on me, and I had to do something to make sure we didn’t lose a VIP client.
Not to mention that the sooner Sean and I talked, the better. Our previous tactic of not talking to each other in group settings was over—me seeing his massive schlong in all its girthy glory had put a stop to that.
After giving one last sigh at my sorry situation, I turned on the car engine and pulled out of the small lot of Circus Maximus. I took Silver Lake Boulevard to the 101, and I was, thankfully, early enough that the traffic wasn’t all that terrible. Twenty minutes later I was in the Hills, making my way up the winding road that led to Sean’s place.
