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“First off, we will not be going to lunch together,ever,” he snaps. “Second, you don’t need to know anything about me, unless it pertains to the job. And third, I’m not your friend, Roxanne. You need to get that through your head. We are here to do our jobs, not have a bonding session. You can do that in your free time, but as for me, I’m not interested in being anything but your manager.”
I audibly scoff before shaking my head. I have never met such an arrogant piece of shit in my entire life.
My nostrils flare, my chest heaving up and down with angry breaths as I try to gather my thoughts. His eyes flicker down to my chest, staying there for a beat before he clenches his jaw and meets my furious glare.
“Understood,” I say through gritted teeth.
What I want to say isfuck you. But I need this job if I want to pay next month’s rent.
It’s fine.I can stick this out until I find something else. As a matter of fact, I’m going to start applying for jobs as soon as I get home tonight.
“And my name is Roxy, not Roxanne,” I add sternly.
His lips tilt up in a cocky smirk.
“Your paperwork says otherwise.”
“Roxanne is my legal name, but I go by Roxy.”
“Well,” he chuckles as a devious grin stretches across his face. “Per your legal name, I will call you Roxanne.”
I roll my eyes as my cheeks heat with anger.
“I don’t mean to overstep, but what the hell is your problem with me?” I huff out. “You knownothingabout me, yet you act like you hate my guts. What did I do to piss you off so much that you don’t even have the decency to call me by my preferred name?”
I see his eyes flinch for half a second, like maybe he has a heart buried deep beneath the black of his soul.
“Hmmm, let’s see,” he says, tapping a long finger against his jaw. “Maybe one reason is because you couldn't get through your first day without falling asleep on the job. I don’t need my clients showing up with drool running down your chin.”
Yeah, definitely no heart there.
“No, Elliot,” I clip, setting the record straight. “You decided that you didn't like me the second I stepped foot in your office this morning. I could see the disgust written all over your face.”
He arches a brow.
“Elliot,” he mocks. “I’m Mr. Thompson to you.”
“Oh really?” I huff out a sarcastic chuckle. “So I’m expected to call you Mr. Thompson, butyoucan’t show me the same respect?”
“I’m your boss,” he sneers. “I’m the one signing yourpaycheck. I’m your superior, so no, you don’t get to call me by my first name.”
“I’m sorry,Elliot,” I drawl out, elongating his name. “But it doesn't work that way. I may be your assistant, but I’m not a doormat.”
Elliot watches as I shut down my computer, gather my things, and stand from my desk. He takes a few steps back, resting his hands on his hips and staring down at me in disbelief.
“You think you can speak to me that way?” he asks, arching a brow. “Do you know who I am at this company?”
“Yes,” I answer through gritted teeth. “A man. You’re just an entitled man with a fancy title and a college degree. Aside from that, you’re nothing but the person who signs my paycheck. Now if you’ll excuse me, it's past five o’clock.”
His gaze flickers between mine, a mixture of heat and anger swirling in his hazel eyes. If my anger wasn't clouding my judgment, I would think I saw a hint of lust in his glare.
My shoulder lightly bumps against his as I move past him. I try my best to ignore the unwanted electricity zipping through my veins at the faint touch.
“I wasn't done speaking–” he bellows as I continue packing up.
I cut him off.
“It will have to wait until the morning. I’m off the clock.”
