Chad stared at me in shock.
I couldn’t blame him. I’d never stood up to him like this before. My hands were sweaty and shaky, and I felt like I’d downed a quad-shot latte mixed with jet fuel.
“I’m your supervisor,” he reminded me, in case I’d somehow forgotten.
“I realize that, but you’re still wrong.” And I was bordering on insubordination but didn’t care. Fresh Eyes was a huge client, and I’d worked hard to earn their commission. If Chad thought he could take it from me with some half-assed ad, he had another think coming.
Chad’s nostrils flared and his cheeks pinkened. “Maybe we should talk to Don about this and see what he thinks.”
Trembling hands and all, I held my ground. “Maybe we should.”
He held my glare for a moment before scooping up the ad and putting it back in his folder. “I could just send my design to the client.”
“Great. I’ll send mine, too, and we can see which one they prefer.” I’d bet my entire career that it wasn’t Chad’s. I’d taken the time to get to know this client and I understood their vision.
“We don’t compete with our own employees. That would make us seem unprofessional.”
I shrugged. “Sounds like a problem then. Look, my ad is good. It’s what the client wants, and my job is to keep them happy. You can fire me if you want, but I’m not sending them your ad.”
He flipped his hair back and let out a huff. “Look, Jessica, I know you wanted the supervisor position, and that you’re disappointed that I got it. I expected pushback from you, but I thought you’d at least be professional. Don’t you think this is a little extreme? Are you really willing to lose your job over one ad?”
“Have you ever been held at gunpoint?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me?”
The thought had never crossed my mind. “No, Chad. I’m not a thug. I was held at gunpoint, though. Recently. You see, I’m not nearly as boring as you think I am. The difference between us is that I’m not confrontational, so I don’t fight you. But that doesn’t make me a doormat. You’ve been trying to stand on me for a long time. You need to stop now.”
“Or what?”
“I’ll walk. My clients love me. I wonder how many of them will stick around if I leave?”
“You signed a non-compete. You won’t be able to work advertising and you’ll have to find another field.”
I most definitely did not sign a non-compete. I was such a small little guppy when I started that nobody thought I’d make it. I barely got my bank information to accounting in time to get my first direct deposit. But I let him believe what he wanted to and shrugged. “You do what you have to, Chad. I’m not letting you push me around anymore. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do and an ad to send to Fresh Eyes LASIK.”
“What is wrong with you, Jessica?” he asked.
Everything. Nothing. For the first time in my life, I felt free. Spade was right, I was feisty, fierce, and ferocious… a goddamn savage. And I liked it. I stood and marched out of his office before he could respond.
And my legs only shook a little.
Spade
MY MOUTH STARTED watering the moment Jessica opened her apartment door. Not only did the place smell like an Italian restaurant, but she looked downright edible herself. She’d changed out of the work clothes she was wearing this morning into a knee-length black dress beneath a cupcake print apron. Her hair was up in a clip, and she’d darkened her eyes and lips.
“You look delicious,” I said, dropping my head down to give her a quick kiss hello while keeping the rest of my body back so I didn’t touch her. I was still wearing my work clothes, and I smelled like sawdust, dirt, and sweat, and didn’t think she’d appreciate any of that rubbing off on her. “I didn’t know this was a date.”
She blushed. “It’s not. I mean, it’s just dinner. I had a pretty crazy day and felt the need to look nice.”
“You always look nice, babe.”
She dropped her gaze. “Thanks.”
Hooking my finger under her chin, I raised her head until she was looking at me again. “You’re gorgeous, Jess. You should own that.”
Looking into my eyes, she replied, “Thanks.”
I held up the duffel bag in my hands. “And I brought clean clothes. Can I use your shower?”
