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“Ever think about adjusting your standards to something achievable by humankind?”
She snorts. “You’d hate it if I did.”
“Probably.” Would I even know? “Met anybody new so far this week?”
“Oh, you’refunny.And yes. A redhead slipped me her number on the elevator just now.”
“Starting off strong.”
“Not as strong as you, working up there, so close to God…”
“All the fun stuff happens in hell.”
“Hell is where the heart is, Leblanc. Go make some money. And come see my new office later. I have a fishbowl for all the numbers I’m collecting.”
She hangs up, and I’m alone again. Helliswhere the heart is. Hang that on a sign in the kitchen.
At twenty after eight, I hitsendon the email.
And then stand up, because the careful phrasing in the email doesn’t change that I’m going way over Greg’s head to get what I want. He’s not going to be happy. He might be angry.
I stopped waiting for conflict to come to me the day we moved out of our father’s house. I’m not going to let Greg make the first move, either. He’s not going to get the impression that I think I need to hide.
“I’m stepping out for a few minutes, Candy.” I don’t stop at her desk. “You can leave any mail by my keyboard.”
“Of course, Mr. Leblanc.”
If it’s not the looks, it’s the voice. This is not the kind of tenacity I like in a secretary.
Except Bristol.
Again, that was different. I can’t tell if Candy can’t read the room or if she can and she’s decided to disregard it completely. I don’t want her.
The office is fully awake. Either most people are genuinely enthusiastic to work here, or they’re too afraid to appear any other way. I see several people on my team, but they’re on the move. I’ve gotten three email reports outlining the new organizational structure already this morning.
I want to personally drag everything back the way it was. Then I want to go to the warehouse and stay in the ring until somebody takes me out. It feels like a joke to nod to people and ask about their weekends instead.
The desk for Greg’s secretary is empty except for a little candy dish. Greg’s main office has all his things, but no people.
Fuck it. I’ll come back later.
I turn toward the door to leave. Her voice reaches me first. Bristol, asking about formatting for the quarterly reports. Then Greg enters the anteroom, his head turned to listen to the question.
And then Bristol.
Bristol.
Every polite greeting goes down under a sucker punch. The only reasonable thing to do is to put Greg Winthrop in a headlock and kick his ass out to the street. I want to push her behind me and punch him until he promises to stay away from her forever. My heart wrenches itself around, trying to start the fight.
Bristol notices me a beat before Greg. She sucks in a breath, her eyes going wide.
Pretend,she orders from my memory. She was on top of me when she said it, in my own bed, in my own home. I had my hands on her hips.Can you just pretend?
Would I just pretend to be someone else? Just for you, Bristol?
I heard her say it again during the fight at the warehouse, and I’d pretended I wasn’t hurt, that he wasn’t stronger, that I was the kind of man who would never allow some prick at a warehouse to take me away from her.
What a hilarious goddamn irony that some prick in a warehousedidtake himself away. I set her free, and here she is.
