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The jacket and pants are a deep burgundy, paired with a black dress shirt underneath. The first few buttons of the shirt are undone, revealing his tan skin and defined collarbones. A shiny watch hugs his wrist, making his veiny hands look hotter than they should. And his honey-brown hair is styled to perfection, except for one single curl that flops over his forehead, an arrow pointing straight to his gold-flecked eyes.
Damn those golden eyes for being so pretty.
“What the hell are you thinking, putting a pink disco ball in a professional office?” he grits out through clenched teeth. I suddenly forget about how damn gorgeous he looks today and am reminded of how much of an asshole he is.
“Do you need to get your eyes checked?” I ask, arching a brow. “Because this is clearly a vase with flowers.”
His eyes flick down to the vase, staring at it like it’s a pile of dog shit.
“It’s a distraction,” he says sharply. “Take it home.”
Absolutely not.
“No.” I place my hands on my hips, standing my ground.
“Excuse me?” His brows shoot up at my disobedience.
“I saidno,” I repeat. “This is my office. I have to spend forty hours a week here, so I will decorate how I want. If you want to have a boring, miserable office, then that’s your choice. But you have no right to dictate what I do with mine.”
He narrows his eyes to angry little slits.
“Don’t argue with me on this, Roxanne,” he clips. “Take the damn thing home.”
“Why?” I ask, raising my voice. “What’s so wrong with it? Give me one good reason.”
“Because it’s fucking vile. It’s the first thing people will see before they get to my office. A pink disco ball.” He shakes his head. “Hell no. Take it home, Roxanne.”
“Is the vase vulgar or offensive?” I push, arching a brow.
“It’s offensive tome,” he hisses. “It’s practically blinding me. It should be a fucking health hazard.”
“You’re so dramatic,” I chuckle sarcastically. “Are you sure you weren't in theatre as a kid?”
He ignores my comment as a smile cracks the corner of my lips.
“I don’t want to see thatthingon your desk when I come into the office tomorrow morning,” he grits out.
“Well, I don’t want to seeyouin the office pretty much every morning,” I snap back. “But life isn't fair, is it?”
His nostrils flare as he clenches his jaw.
“Remove it, or I will.”
“That’s not gonna go well for you, Elliot,” I smirk. “You seem to forget that I’m the person scheduling your meetings and handling most of your emails. You start messing with my stuff, then you’re in for a rude awakening,Mr. Thompson.”
His eyes darken.
“You’re really going to threaten me like that?” he clips, stepping closer as he lowers his voice. “I could have you replaced in a second.”
I take another step, closing the distance so the tips of our noses are almost touching.
“Then do it,” I taunt, matching his tone. “I’m sure Skylar will help me find something else at the company. Or maybe I’ll reach out to Zach. I’m sure he has plenty of connections in the banking world.”
Instantly, Elliot’s eyes fill with fiery rage. I knew he would lose it as soon as I mentioned Zach.
“Zach will havenothingto do with you,” he growls. “I’ll make damn sure of that.”
God, I’m going to love rubbing it in his face after my date with Zach. I’m keeping the date on the down low until after because I know Elliot would find a way to cancel it.
