AllFreeNovel
Share Us
EMMA
“All right,” he says, barely meeting my eyes as he nods then shifts his focus to his computer screen.A thank you would be nice.
“I’ll go make sure your ten o’clock is coming,” I say, thumbing over my shoulder as he lifts his mug and takes a sip. He hums—the only sign of appreciation I ever get—and I grin because he’s drinking spit-stirred coffee.
“And take this rum ball thing away.”What?
“It’s a sugarplum.”
“Take it away.”
“You won’t even try it?”
“I don’t eat sugar.”
“But—”
“Take it away.” He looks up and his sapphire blue eyes lock with mine, causing an unwelcome jolt within my womb. Why does he have to be so beautiful yet so mean? If he’d just give me something, a moment of kindness, a second of gratitude, I could probably handle this job indefinitely. I would work twenty-four-seven for his praise, his smile, histouch.
I crave it.
And I feel stupid because I’m pretty sure I also hate him. But if he ever pushed me against that closed office door, I can’t imagine I’d say no. He’s sex on legs. And you know what they say about hate sex…
Taking a deep breath, I stomp toward his desk and pick the sugarplum up and hold it between my fingers. “Your loss,” I say as I shove it in my mouth then sashay on out of there, trying not to choke on the little piece of coconut I inhaled until I get back to my desk.
Doesn’t eat sugar.
I roll my eyes as I sit at my desk and chug down some water. How stupid does he think I am? That candy drawer of his doesn’t magically replenish itself. Sure, I’m the one who eats half of them when he isn’t looking, but he’d have to be in complete denial of his own sugar addiction to think that I don’t know about it. I mean, what does he call the four spoonfuls of white stuff I put in his coffee multiple times a day? My god, he’s so infuriating.
Why do I even care?
Rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension, I pick up my phone then dial out to confirm his ten o’clock. It’s some woman named Sandra Lawson. He’s never met with her before, so I’m curious about why he’s so anxious over her arrival. I googled her, thinking maybe she was an author he was desperate to sign up to our imprint. But I couldn’t find anything definitive. Too many Sandra Lawsons to narrow it down.
“Ms. Lawson?” I ask when she answers on the second ring.
“Who’s asking?” Her throaty voice makes me feel like a naughty schoolgirl in the principal’s office.
“This is Emma Rose from Maverick Publishing. I’m calling to confirm your ten o’clock appointment with Mr. Maverick today.”
“I’ll be there,” she says then disconnects. Right in my ear.
I stare blankly at the receiver in my hand. “Well, fuck you very much,” I mutter, now wondering if Sandra Lawson is a relative of Lincoln’s. They certainly have the same horrible attitude.
When she strides into the office at 9:58, my suspicions are confirmed. She looks like a softer, female version of Lincoln. His sister.
I rise from my seat and paint a bright smile on my face. “Ms. Lawson, can I—”
“I’ll see myself in.” She gives me a brief glance and a tight smile to go with her clipped tone.Definitely his sister.They have the same snarky attitude too.
I sink back down in my chair, the Christmas spirit I started the day with, leaking out my pores.I can’t wait to see my family tonight.
LINCOLN
“Rightfully, I own forty-nine percent of this company,” Sandra says, her arms extended as she leans over my desk as if she could possibly be intimidating to me.
I remain seated, my hands clasped in front of me. “As do I. And in case you’re forgetting, I’m the one doing all the work here.”
“It looks to me like you’re failing.” She gestures a hand in the air, indicating the mess of papers we’ve been poring over this past few hours.
