The door closed behind him with a softclick.
“You know, I can sue you for what you did to me the night of that gala. I had to get three stitches in the back of my head from the glass that cut my scalp.”
I gave him a pitying look. “I’ll give you my address so you can send me the ER bill.” I threw him a smile that probably read more deadly than friendly. If the fear that clouded Vincent’s face was any indication.
I sauntered over to the table and picked up a copy of the Corsica Pharmaceuticals Employee Handbook. I started flipping pages of the book.
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not working,” Vincent said after a long moment of silence. He sat up straighter in the chair as if regaining some confidence.
I flipped another page.
“And what the hell are you doing with that?” He thrust his thumb toward the book. “I don’t work for that fucking company anymore.”
“No shit?” I said as if I didn’t already know.
He snorted. “Like you didn’t have anything to do with me getting fired. You and that—”
“That what?” I barked, my anger finally sparking as I got in his face.
He shrank back. “Mia,” he answered in a voice just about a whisper.
“What about my wife?”
His eyes bulged, mouth falling open.
No, legally she wasn’t my wife yet, and I still hadn’t proposed, but he didn’t need to know those details.
“What? It wasn’t bad enough that you two got me fired?” Vincent asked, obviously not knowing when to keep his trap shut. “From a job that I was very good at, by the way.”
“If you were so fucking good at it, it never would’ve been so easy to get them to toss you out on your ass.”
His face reddened even more. “Listen, I was damn good at my job. It’s not my fucking fault Mia didn’t know how to work the system. Instead of getting jealous of me and quitting, she should’ve taken notes. Hell, I would’ve left that managerial position and gotten promoted within a year, eighteen months tops. It would’ve been open for her to take on if only she waited.”
“Waited for you to leave her scraps behind?” I said through gritted teeth. “After she fucking trained you and taught you everything you needed to know about the job?”
“She taught me some stuff, yeah, but so what? That doesn’t mean I should’ve put my ambition aside for the job I wanted. If she was the better candidate, she would’ve gotten it. I got that job fair and square,” he said while pounding his chest.
“Yeah, by screwing the hiring manager, right?”
His mouth fell open. “How did you— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I grunted. “I bet you don’t. It’s the same woman you’re living with now because you lost that nice apartment in the skyrise, not too far from here. Shame.” I shook my head, looking down at him.
“Fuck you. My life is none of your damn business.” He abruptly stood up and pushed the chair away, giving himself space to move away from me.
“You made your life my business when you fucked with my wife. You were pissed at her for not being at your beck and call when she quit, right? And when she finally put her foot down and stopped answering your calls, that pissed you off, didn’t it?”
I got in his face, towering over him by half a foot.
“Get out of my face,” he demanded but he was the one to take a step back. “This is why you brought me here? To threaten me? I’ll fucking sue you and all of those Townsends for harassment and kidnapping or whatever this is.”
I took a step in his direction, and he moved back.
“And if you put your hands on me, you’re going to jail,” he threatened, holding up his cell phone.
I straightened and smoothed down the sides of my suit jacket.
“No hands. Got it,” I replied. “You seem like the type of fucker to get the police involved. But would you place that call before or after you admitted to vandalizing Mia’s shop?”
