“Finally settled, Jordyn?” Friar asks.
“Yes. I’m ready to begin.”
“Good man, Talon,” Friar adds for my benefit—a point for Talon and a strike for me.
But getting back in the zone, I refocus and deliver a bang-up presentation—alone. Talon had burnt that olive branch, so I wasn’t going to give him any air time. Friar puts me through the paces, grilling me, but seems impressed.
“Great job, Jordyn,” he praises as we wrap up. “One of the best presentations I’ve ever seen. It hit all the keynotes and brought the design elements to life—very exciting stuff. I knew you were a special talent when we first met. Next time, I expect you to be sharp from the start.”
“Absolutely.”
Feeling a huge sense of relief and accomplishment, I look over at Talon, counting down the minutes until I can rip him a new one. I watch Stiles extend his hand to Talon as we all take our goodbyes. His face is impassive, but Talon’s is a grimace, his mouth twisting as if in pain. Similar in height but not in size or strength, Talon’s hand must feel like a rag doll in the clutches of a Doberman.
I bask in the small moment of retribution as Talon is released from Stiles’ grip and massages his fingers.
I thank Friar and his team once again and spare a quick nod to Stiles—appreciative but unforgiving. I leave with Talon on my heels. I walk ahead, not trusting that I won’t blast him before we’re out of the building.
But as soon we’re through the smoky front doors, he starts in. “You fucking iced me out.”
I turn before we get to the bank of elevators and whisper harshly, although no one is around, “You honestly want to harp on not getting to present after what you did?”
“WhatIdid? I saved your ass in there.”
“After you tried to sabotage me.”
“Yeah, right. I can’t help it that you had me send the wrong presentation or that you lost the drive.”
“We both know what you did, Talon. Don’t think for one second that I’ll fall for your B.S.”
“What are you going to do?” he taunts. “Go cry to Athena?”
“I don’t need Athena to fight my battles.”
“That’s right; you have Micah Peters.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He used his fame card to make sure you got the project lead. He even got Friar to hire one of his goons. I work for my career. Unlike you, I don’t get it handed to me on a silver platter.”
“Pretty pathetic. But I guess that’s what you need to believe to get past the fact that I’m a better architect and a better leader.” I turn, done with him…for now.
He follows, still ranting.
“Back off, Hunt!”
My head pivots to the foreboding voice and austere expression of the man that no one in their right mind would want to mess with.
Talon blanches, his arrogance crumbling to his feet.
“If you ever speak to Ms. Sinclair that way again or interfere with the success of this project, I will shove those shoes so far up your ass they’ll be shining through your fucking mouth. Do I make myself clear?”
“Just go, Talon,” I urge, stabbing the elevator button, not sure who I’m angrier with at the moment.
He picks his ego up off the floor, glares at me, then disappears behind the steel doors.
“Are you out of your mind?” I turn on Stiles. “That is my colleague.”
“He’s a piece of shit that tried to sabotage you today, and I heard the way he was talking to you.”
