Page 10 of Once Upon a Grump


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“It’s too bad though,” Paisley mused. Her eyes twinkled as she rested her chin on her hand and looked up, as if picturing him through the ceiling. “I’d give my left tit for a romp with Mr. Stone.”

Cassie spurted with laughter. I found myself grinning, too.

Paisley’s phone buzzed and she looked down. For a few moments, her face held no expression. Then she frowned and looked up to me. “Mr. Stone asked me to send you up to his office. It’s the fifty–”

“Fifty-fifth floor. Yeah,” I said. “I’ve heard a few times already today.”

Cassie put her hand on my arm. “Wait. You should know he doesn’t have people come to his office.”

“Why should I know that?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” Cassie shrugged. “But the last time I heard someone getting called to his office, the next time anyone saw them, they were in tears and packing their stuff.”

“Well,” Paisley said. “I think he did have his other executive assistants up there at least once, didn’t he?”

“Wasn’t that just when he fired them?” Cassie asked.

“So you’re saying he’s going to fire me?”

Paisley blew a raspberry and swatted at me. “Don’t be crazy.” She suddenly looked less confident. “I mean, it’s possible, actually.”

Cassie nodded. “Yeah. He might be about to fire you. But it was really great to meet you, anyway.”

I felt like a dead woman walking as I headed for the elevator. I tried to catch Chase’s eye and wave on my way out, but he made a point of keeping his eyes down and pretending not to see me.

What the hell was I about to walk into?

5

LOLA

I found Christian behind his desk with his fingers templed. He’d set his suit jacket on the back of his chair and had his white sleeves rolled up to reveal a pair of yummy–nope. Focus, Lola. Your job is probably on the line here. It’s definitely not the time to be playing “lick the eye candy.”

I flashed my best smile and looked around the room, nodding in appreciation. “It’s really manly in here. All the dark wood and dim lighting suits you.”

Christian made a noise somewhere between a growl and a grunt.

I practically tiptoed toward the chair across from his desk and sat, smoothing my dress over my thighs. “You, uh, asked to see me?”

He lifted a leather folder, opened it, and slid it across the polished wood desk. He flipped it to face me with one finger and sat back, waiting for me to read.

I leaned forward. “A non-disclosure agreement? Aren’t these those things that mean I’m not allowed to talk about something you are going to show me? Is it a really weird mole? Because this might be a bad time to admit I have a thing for pulling out hairs. If you show me a hairy mole, I’m totally busting out the tweezers and having the time of my–”

Christian raised his palm toward me without a sound, cutting me off. I gulped and leaned back in my chair, hands on my thighs.

“If you sign this, I’ll tell you why you’re really here. If you don’t, I’ll give you a severance package and you can be on your way.”

“Oh my God. I read Fifty Shades a few years ago. I mean… Your name happens to be Christian… Are you actually some kind of perverted sex fiend?” I clamped my mouth shut when I saw the look on his face and pressed my lips together. “Sorry. Bad time for jokes. Um, do I get any kind of hints? Like how do I know I won’t talk about something if I don’t know what it is? If you told me you’ve been chopping up your secretaries and keeping them in the fridge, I’m going to be honest–I’d probably tell the cops.”

Christian watched me for a few very long, very uncomfortable seconds. The man certainly cleaned up well. He looked crisp and delicious in his dress clothes. He looked commanding. If he told me to stand up and take off my blouse, I might’ve made it a few buttons before I even stopped to question what I was doing. Then again, that could have something to do with how ridiculously hot he was.

“So I just have to sign this thing and then I find out why I’m here?”

Christian said nothing, which I assumed was grump-speak for “yes.”

I considered. The whole oppressively curious part of me was practically vibrating with anticipation. Secrets? Surprises? Dark juicy gossip? Sign. Me. Up. But keeping a secret? That wasn’t exactly my specialty. In fact, my loose lips were sort of the reason my life had imploded. It was the reason I had a million people trying to contact me from my old life in New York and the reason I was ignoring all of it.

“What happens if I sign this and don’t keep the secret?”

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