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She rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. Punishment. You’re going to make my life miserable. Right? Is that the plan?”
That’s not even half of it. “I should be tormenting you right now,” I mutter.
“Believe me. You started strong.” She smiles slightly, like the file sorting didn’t bother her at all.
“Not strong enough, if you’re still smiling.” Fuck, this woman.
“Why? Does it bother you?” Her smile grows as she rises from her chair, putting her right below my chin. Foolish desire twists in my groin.
“It drives me insane.” My voice comes out hoarse. With irritation.
“I’m so glad,” she says. “What exactly about me drives you insane? I’ll take notes.” She reaches for her pen, and my hand lands over hers.
“Don’t,” I growl. “No notes about me. How are you so cheerful all the time?” I hate it.
“That’s my secret to know, and yours to find out.”
Her blue eyes shoot fire and I step closer, until I’m in her space, soaking her in like a plant in the sun. Her lips part. Her breath hitches.
“I don’t want to find out.” I brush my thumb over the skin of her hand, and she shivers. Good. I will my body’s reaction away. “I want you to suffer.” My words are quiet, spoken like a lover, but the words of a villain.
“Then we’re aligned.” She smiles, like she’s already won.
Her words light something inside of me. A match to a fuse I thought was long dead.
“Game on, Thompson,” I whisper.
I turn back to my office, unsettled by my new knowledge of Callie. Ms. Thompson. Unbelievably beautiful, a body made for sin, and a sharp mind. Everything I want in a woman. If only she weren’t out to destroy me. I watch her work. She twists up her hair, baring the long column of her neck. I want to bite it. She slicks on lip balm, and I want to lick it off. I’m not even pretending to work. I’m just watching her and wanting.
This needs to stop.
I grab my papers and my briefcase, then my overcoat. I need to get this under control. I can’t afford distractions. I need to stay focused. Revenge on Green Media. Conquer the world. I’m close. And to start, I need to stop fucking thinking about Callie Thompson.
13
Callie
I wake to a hand on my shoulder. I snort inelegantly, and flail. Where am I? My head throbs and my mouth feels fuzzy. I jerk my chin up and see Jonah Crown smirking at me. Jonah. The office. The sorting. Finishing the paper. And then more sorting. I shut my eyes and groan softly.
“Tell me this is a nightmare,” I mutter.
“Believe me, Thompson. You’re not one of the top five people I want to see on a Friday morning. This is, unfortunately, all too real. And I’m late for my workout.” Jonah’s crisp voice cuts through the haze in my brain.
“Start without me. I’ll catch up.” I let my head drop back onto the desk.
A warm palm closes around my upper arm. “Let’s go.” Jonah pulls me out of the chair and swiftly steps away. His eyes glint as he takes me in.
“Are you planning to work in that?”
I look down at my outfit. I asked Adriana to bring me supplies last night when I was stuck at the office again, and she came through with an overnight bag and dinner. I’m wearing yoga pants and a cropped sweatshirt. There’s a small strip of skin that shows above my waistband, and I tug at the hem.
“I’m not sure there’s much you can do. That garment seems to be missing several inches.” Jonah cocks his head. “Though it may even be an improvement over yesterday’s outfit. It’s hard to say.” By yesterday’s outfit he means the same dress I wore on Monday. Asshole.
He turns on his heel without so much as a “follow me.” I stick my tongue out at his back as I shuffle after him. I follow him into the elevator and lean against the wall, with my eyes shut.
“One would think that you’d be an expert at waking up early, what with all the early morning skulking you do.”
“I don’t skulk,” I mutter.
