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If Will decided to fuck me on it, it would collapse.
Which isnotthe kind of thing I’ll be thinking about today or ever again.
My new boss glances up as the folder I’ve prepared lands on his desk. “All set, Mr. Malcolm.”
Smile.
He flips the top open. The man has one special talent—he’s even able to leer at paper. “These are wrong, wrong,wrong.The profit and loss statement is supposed to be organized by dollar amount. I told you that. Do you have cotton in your ears?”
He didn’t say that. That’s why I carry the legal pad everywhere with me.
It acts as a shield in more ways than one.
“Sir, I have it here in my notes.” Two pages back. Yellow sheets slip against cardboard while I find the note—in a big, bold box, highlighted with arrows. “On Tuesday, you wanted them sorted alphabetically. We had a conversation about it at two-fifteen.”
“There’s only one good thing about you,” he says, his eyes locked on my breasts.
Usually I keep the legal pad in front of them.
I take a step back, disgust sour on my tongue. I knew Malcolm was like this the moment I stepped into his office. I’ve been a temp long enough to know how to read the men who have corner offices.
Except with Will.
Maybe I should be ashamed of how much I wanted him. I’ve been harassed at work plenty of times, but never blackmailed. Everything about Will Leblanc was new and dangerous. It was good in a fierce, painful way, because he was a fighter. In business. In bed. With me.
You deserve somebody better, sweetheart. I’m not that guy. I’m a monster. You don’t want me. I promise.
But damn it, I did. I do.
The mousy-haired man in front of me is nothing compared to Will, who was lots of things, but he wasn’t a monster.
I’m pissed that it hurts so much. That I only had my toe in the door of Will’s life before he shut me out. That I’m inthisroom, withthisman, instead of wherever Will is.
I could deal with the leering. I could even deal with the little pinches Mr. Malcom tried on my second day.
But this? When my chest aches and my eyes burn and I hate everything about being away from Will?
I’m done.
“Your behavior is completely inappropriate.” He finally manages to look me in the eye. “If you speak to me like that again, I’m going to have to report you to HR.”
Malcolm rolls his eyes. “So what? The agency will send a new temp. Nobody cares about your little complaints. You’re supposed to look good, Bristol. You’re supposed to…relieve my stress.”
I draw myself up to my full height. “No, sir. I’m here to collate and file your profit and loss statements alphabetically. The way you asked me to do it.”
He sneers down at the folder. Then he’s on his feet, shaking the papers out of it. Malcolm snatches them up from his desk and tears them in half. In quarters. The ragged pieces hit the carpet at my feet.
My heart pounds. This feeling is the worst of all worlds. Hot rage. Cold indecision. A man in a room with a temp could do anything. Next to Will, Malcolm is pathetic.
But he could still hurt me.
I don’t glance down at the papers. “If you don’t like my work, fire me.”
Malcom’s grin might as well be a grope. “It’s easy to get rid of a temp, but you could change my mind.”
I turn my back on him and flounce out of the room. I haven’t actually quit. He’ll have to fire me himself. At the very least, he’ll have to pick up the torn papers.
Screw him. I’m leaving early.
