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“Of course you knew.” I raise my eyes. “I told you myself. Now go back outside, head to the coffee shop and ask them to fulfill my order as instructed.”
I stare at her with interest, waiting to see what she does next. I know I’m being a bastard. To be honest, I couldn’t give a fuck what I drink my coffee in, but my mission is to make her extremely uncomfortable. To hate me and to wish she had neverbeen hired and obviously I’m doing well because the hatred that blazes from her eyes strangely turns me on.
“I’m sorry sir but may I speak?”
“Go on.”
I really hope she’s going to fight back because treading all over a doormat is not much fun.
“You are paying me a lot of money to work for you and with respect, your money is being wasted, in my opinion.”
“Are you saying you’re not worth the money I pay you?”
I maintain a cool expression, but inside I’m impressed that she’s calling me out on this.
“I am worth it, I can assure you of that, but if you merely want someone to fetch you coffee, you would be better off paying the coffee shop a delivery charge, leaving me to help you in a much more beneficial way.”
“Help me?” I raise my eyes with amusement.
“I don’t want your help, Laura. I want you to do what I fucking tell you and not to question it.”
I stare with interest as her eyes blaze fire and her chest heaves with indignation. Her face is flushed, and her fists are balled in anger, and I stare in admiration as the tiger in her sharpens its claws.
“Mr. Remington. Sir.” She says with a deep breath and fixes me with a look that could wither a rose.
“I am excited to be part of your organization and I’m relishing the challenge, but I willnotbe bullied by you. This is my first day and will be my last if you think I am happy to be treated like a slave.”
“Miss Kincaid.” My voice is sharp and my expression angry, causing her to shrivel inside the designer suit I made her wear.
“Sit down.” I point at the chair in front of my desk and love how she is quivering with rage as she drops into it and stares at me through venomous eyes.
“I don’t employ fools, Miss Kincaid. If I wanted you to fetch my coffee for one hundred thousand dollars a year, I wouldn’t be as successful in business as I am.”
She says nothing and if looks could kill, my mother would be planning my own funeral right now.
“The coffee means nothing. It’s a test of sorts. Training if you like. I am a man of routine. It never lets me down. My day is scripted for a reason because every hour, every minute, and every second counts for something. You have correctly concluded that fetching coffee on the hour, every hour, is a waste of a valuable resource. You are correct in saying it would be more beneficial to have it delivered, and I commend you on that.”
She stares at me in shock as I drum my fingers on my desk and snap, “I don’t employ fools, Laura. I expect the best and it is your job to take my instructions and make them work efficiently. I don’t give a fuck how this coffee makes it to my desk, but my instructions were clear. On the hour, in a bone china mug and how that happens is up to you. I don’t give a fuck how you do it, just make it happen.”
I fix her with a dark stare.
“I issue the instructions and you follow them. Use your common sense and we will not be having this conversation again. So…” I lean back and point to the door. “You’ve wasted enough of my time, so head back to your desk and check your emails. I’m guessing you are behind already.”
I wave her off, my attention returning to my computer screen, and as the door closes behind her, I smile. It appears that my new pa does have a backbone which will make breaking it even more of a pleasure.
CHAPTER 9
LAURA
Troy Remington may be crafted from the gods, but his soul was gifted by the devil. It’s funny how one overshadows the other and cancels out any good, and I now actually believe I hate the man.
From the coffee incident to the fucking emails he’s sent me, each one more vitriolic than the last.
Instructing me to carry out tasks that I need a manual to understand, with no explanation at all. It’s taking me four times longer to research how to do something than the time it takes doing it.
I’m exhausted and, as I deliver his two-o’clock coffee, I say firmly, “I’m taking my lunch break now as agreed.”
I fucking dare him to challenge me because I am so hungry I would probably eat the bastard whole, but he just does that dismissive wave thing and turns his attention back to his one true love. His computer.
