She paused, her voice tightening. “He tried bullying me a few times, but eventually gave up on that. Now we pretend nothing ever happened between us, though he still makes snide comments and tries to intimidate me when no one’s around. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“I hope you don’t leave,” I said. “Brian jokes about being around the longest on our team, but he’s serious when he says you’re the most valuable person here. I believe it too.”
She gave me a grateful smile. “I hope I don’t have to leave as well. I like it here too. Apart from the Rafael thing.”
I did, and it highlighted why I should stay away from Jonah at all costs.
“By the way,” she admitted, “I thought I saw a lot of Rafael in you. The way you were being nice to management. It was one of Rafael’s signature traits. Sucking up to management instead of working. You aren’t like that, Lexi, not one bit. I’m sorry I was so harsh on you.”
I wasn’t sucking up to management, but I did have a past with the CEO. The thought made me feel uneasy.
We stood in a line of employees who were waiting for their spot in the buffet line. The line moved slowly so I let my gaze wander.
The chairs were arranged theater-style, all facing the podium, and a projector was set up to display a rolling slideshow of employee achievements while a technician discreetly checked the sound system.
The line moved ahead, and I shuffled forward just as Brian joined us.
I picked up a bottle of ice tea for myself before I looked around.
“What kind of pizza do you want?” a deep, gruff voice on the other side of the table asked, only to break off as I looked up.
I almost dropped my bottle of tea when I saw Jonah standing on the other side of the table, serving the employees pizza.
My jaw dropped, and next to me, Brian guffawed from behind as he leaned in.
“Didn’t you see the email? The folks from the C-suite are serving food to us,” he said while he evaluated Jonah’s mood. He seemed to think it was good because he attempted to joke with Jonah. “I guess not everyone reads the emails you send, sir,” he said and laughed, only to be met by Jonah’s impassive expression.
“Everyone reads my emails,” Jonah insisted with a dark look.
Brian shut up immediately, and Jonah turned to me.
“Pepperoni or cheese?” he demanded, his voice dropping low, but never losing that note of authority. His gaze had gone cold and distant.
I let my gaze rest on him for a moment, wishing I could relish the one day he was forced to give me his brief but intense attention. Instead, I seemed to get what seemed like a blaze of anger from his eyes.
“Lexi?” Brian prompted while I continued to gaze at Jonah, and after a few moments, he nudged me abruptly from behind.
I cast a glance backward at Brian’s touch just as Jonah gave Brian a livid look, his eyes zeroing in on the point of contact, where Brian had gently nudged his shoulder into my side.
“Do you make it a point to shove your female colleagues around?” Jonah demanded, his tone barely controlled, while Brian took a step back and mumbled an apology.
“I think the point of getting the C-suite folks to serve us food is to make you seem more approachable. Not to scare them away. Cheese, please,” I said finally.
Jonah scowled even more fiercely as he put both the cheese and pepperoni on my plate.
“I don’t care about being approachable,” Jonah said curtly. “I care about boundaries. About people remembering them.”
I took a step back, reeling from his comment, just as the brunette I’d seen days ago, Jill, walked up from behind Jonah. So,shewas here.
Today, she was wearing a pretty red dress, and she tapped Jonah’s shoulder.
“What?” Jonah asked, turning his head a fraction of an inch as he looked at her over his shoulder.
“You need to see this picture I took last weekend,” she said as she leaned closer to Jonah with a captivating smile on her face, angling her phone in front of his face. Something about his expression made her think, and she stepped back and looked at me.
“Still serving our employees, Joe?” she asked.
It was a stinging reminder that I was just an employee to Jonah. He’d never be able to correct people to say I was anything more.
