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“Ishouldscare you,” he says, but he can’t quite pull off the menacing tone with his weak voice.
“I don’t have money to give you, but even if I did, I’d rather burn it in a dumpster on the side of the street than give you anything I earn. Are you hearing me?”
“You might have got the drop on me once, but it won’t happen again.”
“Maybe if there wasn’t such a little-boy whine in your voice, your threats would come off as a lot more convincing,” I say. The thing is, even though he’s a pathetic excuse of a human being, I can’t forget he’s also desperate.
“I have nowhere else to go, so it looks like I’m sticking around,” he says.
“It’s not my problem—”
He hangs up on me, and I let out a sigh while rubbing my forehead. How many more problems can I take before I explode? I concentrate on my breathing for several moments before I realize I’m no longer alone. I don’t want to look up, don’t want to know how much of the conversation Byron heard.
His expression gives nothing away. I’m silent as I wait to hear what insult he’s going to skewer me with next. Hell, he might as well bring it on. My day can’t get any worse.
“My office... now,” he says, and he turns and walks away. He’s confident I’ll follow.
I slowly rise from my chair and take a step in the direction of his office before my shoulders go back and a bit of the fire that’s seen me through many hard times flares up inside. I’m sick of getting bossed around, sick of men trying to control me.
Instead of following Byron into his office, I grab my purse and make my way to the restroom around the corner. And I take my time. I wash my face, the cool water feeling incredible against my heated skin, and reapply a modest amount of makeup. Then I prop myself against the sink and stare at my image.
“You are McKenzie freaking Beaumont. You’ve survived things most people could never handle, and you’ll continue to survive. No one can make you feel inferior. No one but you can decide your course of action. No one can trample the life you’ve made for yourself. Bullies are bullies because they can’t earn respect any other way. Deep down, they’re cowards.”
This is a speech I’ve delivered to myself many times over the course of my life, and I have a feeling I’ll say it many more times. No, I’m not immune to fear, and yes, I’ll have weak moments — everyone does — but I won’t let these moments define who I am. And I won’t allow anyone to keep me down for long.
With my head held high, I leave the restroom and head back to Byron’s office. My armor is back in place and I’m going to keep this job. I’m going to make a success of my business and I’m definitely going to beat Nathan Guilder — damn him to hell. He’s nothing more than a pathetic excuse for a man trying to make up for his tiny dick.
I nearly smile at my thoughts. That is until I step into Byron’s office and see the way he’s looking at me. This isn’t going to be my easiest battle... not by a long shot... but it won’t break me. Nothing will ever break me again.
I stand my ground and wait. Let the match begin . . .
Chapter Ten
Byron
Just when I think I have a clue who McKenzie Beaumont is, something happens to throw my preconceived notions into disarray. I don’t know her at all. She’s a mystery... one I want to solve.
That phone call changed not only her voice, but her entire demeanor. I’m very aware of true fear — and though McKenzie was obviously irritated, she was also afraid. Iwillfind out why. I might’ve believed it was an act except she didn’t know I was listening. She wasn’t acting for my benefit. So what is going on?
“Who were you on the phone with, McKenzie?” I learned long ago not to let my opponents have time to think. If I catch her by surprise, she won’t have time to make up a good lie. She already managed to get away for twenty minutes between the phone call and coming to my office. Damn woman is stubborn.
“It was no one you know.”
“Hmm. Try me. I know a lot of people.”
“Trust me, Byron; you don’t knowthisperson,” she says.
“Whoever it was seems to be wanting something you’re not willing to give,” I say. She nervously shifts on her feet. I’m sure she’s wondering how much of the conversation I heard.
I want to think of this woman as cold, calculating, and interested in only herself, but I can’t help but notice the frightened look in her eyes and the way she’s carefully holding herself together. Improbably, I want to be her knight in shining armor and rescue her from whatever dragon was on the other end of her phone line.
“A lot of people seem to want things I’m not willing to give,” she pointedly says. She doesn’t pause before continuing though. My calls are none of your business.” Her eyes connect with mine and show me she hasn’t lost a bit of the steel in her spine.
My pulse speeds up. I want to grab her, shake her, and get past the icy composure she inevitably reverts to. Instead, I fire off more words in a voice that is, if possible, even icier.
“Everything that goes on in this office is my business,” I assure her. “As a business owner, you should understand that.”
“Let me repeat that mypersonalbusiness is none ofyourbusiness.”
