“No.” He glared at me. “I’m apparently being demoted to the intern level. My entire team, actually.”
“I am so sorry…”
“I’m sure you are.” He grabbed my arm. “Why didn’t you tell us about this?”
“Because I didn’t know.”
“Mr. Lewis must’ve told you something,” he said. “He told you everything.”
“He didn’t tell me shit.” I snatched my arm away. “I found out on Friday, just like everyone else, and if you don’t believethat I would’ve warned everyone, screw you. You should know better.”
“Okay, now I’m sorry.” He stepped back, rubbing his face. “I just…I can’t afford to lose anything, and…”
“Me either,” I said. “I get it.”
He hit the up button before walking away, and I looked at my watch.
4:58.
Shit.
Thankfully, the doors opened within seconds and I stepped inside—punching the top-floor button.
I couldn’t help but notice that it’d been changed from the plain white style from before. Now, it was gold with the words “THE BOSS” etched in black.
As the car carried me up, I squinted to read the fine print etched on the plate underneath it.
Do not come here unless summoned by Mr. Cross.
Wasting his time is a crime.
“So, this is how the fuckery begins.” I rolled my eyes and sighed.
Bing!
I stepped off and found myself in a world of opulence.
The walls were painted in a luxe beige, and the floor had been removed and replaced with sleek gray marble.
A new receptionist desk stood guard down the hall. Beyond it, water flowed down a glass wall in a smooth, silvery curtain, the name CROSS glowing beneath the falling stream.
There weren’t any remnants of Mr. Lewis’s time here at all, and there was a part of me that didn’t hate that.
He was still a coward.
Since the main office door was open, I knocked against the panel.
No response.
“Hello?” I stepped inside, stopping when I saw Mr. Cross leaning against his desk.
“Good morning, Miss Stone.” His eyes met mine. “Are you aware that it’s 5:01 a.m. and you’re late?”
“No, I swear…” I glanced at my watch. Then I checked my phone screen to be sure. “It’s just now five o’clock.”
Strolling toward me, he gently lifted my wrist. His fingers were warm—steady—and far too comfortable against my pulse.
“Allow me to reset this—along with your phone—so we’re on the same page from here on out.”
