“Get me Ms. Jaques,” she said, leaning back in her chair and steepling her fingers on the desk.
“Ms. Burns.” I pushed aside the internal alarm that warned me to shut the fuck up. “Everyone is working at maximum capacity. The daily output quotas are set far too high with the current level of technology we have. Even the extra hands we hired for the holiday season can’t help breach the difference in—”
“Tell me, Ms. Nayak,” she began, cutting me off. “Did Iaskfor your opinion?”
Once, years ago, the words might have landed like a slap to the face, but my skin had grown thick.
“Well, no, but—”
“Then do your job. You’re my assistant, soassistme by summoning Ms. Jaques.”
Fuck.Poor Josephine. The foreman always took the fall for lapses in production quotas. I knew how hard the Alpha worked; she didn’t deserve the haranguing she was about to receive.
I moved toward the door, but I couldn’t leave without one last word.
“It’s the solstice,” I said, turning back to glance at her rigid frame. “You could at leastpretendto be human. Be nice to your employees for just one day...”
Not a single muscle twitched in her icy features.
“Nicedoes not build empires,Ms. Nayak.” Her tone brushed over me like a blast of chilly wind. “You’d be wise to remember that.”
Chapter Two
Dessi
Minutes later, I watched from my desk as Josephine left Ms. Burns’ office, her face flushed. Dejection weighed heavily on her shoulders, and even the most festive, red-checked flannel couldn’t hide their slump.
“Josephine!” I called out in a stage whisper, following in her footsteps as she veered to a corner where the pantry and restrooms were.
She turned, and I noticed her eyes were red-rimmed. I stepped close, taking in her scent of leather and pine—very comforting, very familiar.
“I’m sorry,” I said, sliding the door partially shut. “Are you okay? I know she was hard on you.”
“Yeah, I’m…” She swiped a palm over her face as though that would miraculously cure the flush from overtaking her neck. “I’m just tired. That’s all.”
“It’s been a hectic few weeks with the campaign.”
She glanced down at her fingers. They were flecked with white from powder from the safety gloves.
“We’re not equipped for it, Dessi. We didn’t expect the orders to more than double.”
“I know.” I placed a sympathetic palm on her shoulder. “I tried to speak to Ms. Burns about the unrealistic expectations she has for her employees but it’s like—”
“Talking to a damn wall,” she finished for me, pushing curls away from her forehead. “She wouldn’t know common sense if it bit her on the nose.”
I nodded in agreement.
“She increases the orders each year, too. We barely scraped by last time.” She shoved her hands into well-worn jeans. “And now… I doubt we’ll be able to make it. Even with the extra hands on board.”
“I wish there was something I could do,” I said earnestly. “I see how hard you work, Jo, and it’s simply not fair that you get berated for not meeting these quotas.”
My hand dropped as she shrugged. “Sometimes the paycheck isn’t worth it. Makes me wonder why I’m even here.”
“You’re here because the Distillery wouldneverrun as efficiently without you. You’ve been here for what—thirty years? That’s longer than Burnzilla’s reign of tyranny. In my eyes, you outrank her.”
Jo scoffed, but a little smile played at the corners of her lips. “You think so?”
“Iknowso.” I turned to the fridge and pulled out an ice-cold can of crisp soda. “I’d like to see her do your job for one day—hell, I’d like to see her in your shoes for onehour.”
