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“Most of the good sluts aren’t.” A male voice chimes in. "Reign must like it chubby and dirty."
“Gross," the women's chorus in between bouts of laughter. I can't clearly see Ava's face but I can sense her emotion from the way her body stands, tense as if taking blows to the stomach. I don't blame her. It can't feel good hearing ugly things about you, especially when you know they're not true.
And I wonder what kind of idiots I hire that would even believe such a thing in the first place with no proof whatsoever.
I stay put, wondering at the untold irritation that's running through me. Generally, I don't give a fuck what the employees discuss or what they think about each other. I don't involve myself in their little squabbles and snide fights. As long as everyone does their jobs, they can be bitches and dicks to each other for all I care. But right now, hearing them say that about Ava...
The annoyance just grows and grows.
And I feel like truly fucking someone up for the first time in a long time.
Maybe it's because Ava is just standing there, taking it all without doing anything back. It's like she's hiding, trying her best not to reveal her presence so they know how stupid they are to be gossiping so loudly in a public space. Honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she went in and started pulling hair and scratching eyes out. Not that I supported workplace violence or anything, but...I would definitely hold back for a few minutes before going in there to pull her off them. And I know she would win any brawl too, whoever those fucking bitches were. I’ve already seen hints of her famous temper and sense that she can cut people down with words and fists if need be. But she's not doing any of that.
Instead, she takes a deep breath, hunches her shoulders, and walks away promptly.
Like she's the fucking culprit.
Oh no, you’re not getting away that easily.
I follow her and easily catch up because my stride is at least double hers. When I'm beside her, our eyes meet for a few seconds and hers widen. Shock reverberates in her gaze right before I grab her arm, steering her into an empty conference room.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice quiet, more sedate. She sounds chastened, and I don't know why, but I fucking hate it.
“I could ask you the same thing," I say.
“Huh?”
“Why didn’t you say anything back there? When those fuckers were going off about you?”
Her face heats up and she seems to just realize that I witnessed the whole thing. She crosses her arms over her chest. "Why would I? It's not like I care what they think."
"Oh, but you do." That's the part that irritates me. I wouldn't be here if she truly didn't care. "If not, you wouldn't be standing there, looking at me like a kicked puppy."
"I am not."
"Oh, yes, you are." I come close enough that she has to crane her neck to look at me. "And I gotta tell you, I'm disappointed."
"Disappointed?"
"Yeah. I thought I hired a tigress, not a puppy."
Her eyes flare, and her lips tighten. There it is. The famous temper that I wanted her to display back there. “You would rather I cause a scene.”
“I would rather you stick up for yourself rather than run away like a little mouse.”
She flinches at the last word and gets even angrier. And I swear to God, it gets me hard to see her like that, to see that fire return to her eyes. A fire that should never be put out. It lights something inside me too, something that I definitely shouldn't be feeling toward her.
I take a step closer and wrap my hand around her waist even though I know that I shouldn’t. I draw her closer to my body, even as the warning bells clamor and tell me to walk out of here right now.
“It's none of your business anyway.” Her voice is a hoarse whisper and she licks her lips like she does when she's nervous.
Fuck.
It's like waving red in front of a bull.
“That's where you're wrong,” I say. "Everything about you is my business."
And then I claim her lips once and for all.
