This is becoming a pattern. One I don’t much care for.
“Okay, get in touch with him ASAP, or find another way in.” Corm stands up,adjourning the meeting.
I zip out of there like my ass is on fire. I pass by Lindsay’s workstation and enter my office.
Fuck. I need to hit the gym one more time. Or go downstairs and break Ed Reynolds’ ugly face.
“You know, I gave you labels over the almost two years we’ve known each other…” Roxy’s voice startles me.
“Ever heard of knocking?” I snap, and grab a fidget cube from my desk.
She leans against my library. She wears a schoolgirl miniskirt and a granny cardigan. Her sense of fashion is plain weird, but she makes it work. The simple outfit today is the only innocent-looking thing about her.
She ignores my comments. “Fitting labels. Playboy. Asshole. Idiot. But never have I thought you’d deserve to be called a liar.”
There is something we can agree on, but at the moment, I don’t give a flying fuck about the San Francisco deal.
“Find out where he is taking her!”
Talking about labels, I’m pretty sure I just lost the “genius” label I’ve been coined with… clearly unjustly.
She folds her arms across her chest, raising her chin. “First, admit you’ve been lying to everyone.”
“Isn’t that the reason you’re here?” I click the toy, flicking it between my fingers, and try not to pace.
She already has the upper hand in this conversation. I don’t need to show her my desperation.
Fuck. Iama desperate man. I just can’t pinpoint the moment that transformation happened.
“You should leave that poor woman alone.”
“So I’ve been told.”
By the said woman, multiple times.I put my hands in my pockets, still tapping the metal parts of the toy. “If you’re not going to help me, then go do your job, Roxy.”
“Why would I want to help you?” She purses her lips like she is really musing about the answer.
“I swear to God, Roxy—” I walk around and sit behind my desk. The toy snaps into pieces.
“Wow, you really care about her.”
I glare at her, and she takes pity on me, laughing. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Do better than that.” What am I even going to do with the information? While my sanity raises the question, it doesn’t improve the situation because I ignore it.
“For someone who wants something from me, you’re awfully obnoxious.”
I inhale. “Roxy, please find out where Ed Reynolds is taking Cora and when.”
“I want a raise.”
Only returning to San Francisco would be worse than this woman. “Okay.”
She opens her mouth in a mock gape, then glares. “You’re not authorized to promise me that.”
“I will fucking pay you out of my pocket.”
I’m officially insane.
