“Good morning, Miss Stone.” Dave shook his head at me as he opened the back door.
“Good morning.” I slid inside. “Thank you for picking me up.”
“It’s always a pleasure.” He tipped his hat before shutting the door.
As he slid behind the wheel, the other passenger door opened and Mr. Cross moved inside—glaring at me.
He was wearing his favorite dark gray coat, jaw clenched tight, eyes cutting through mine. He didn’t look the slightest bit amused, and I’d never seen him look like this before.
I glanced at the rearview mirror, hoping for Dave to throw some help my way, but he kept his gaze straight ahead and pulled onto the street.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Cross,” I said once we hit a stoplight.
“You’re sorry for what?”
“For running late.”
“Running late would’ve been five to ten minutes,” he said. “Maybe even fifteen.”
“Mr. Cross?—”
“You’re two fucking hours late.”
My excuses lodged uselessly in my throat.
“My television interview was scheduled for nine,” he continued calmly. “But since my executive assistant wasn’t there with the final printed version of my speech, I pushed it back to this evening.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“Sorry…” He tasted the words as if he’d never said them before, then he snapped. “Roll up the partition, Dave.”
The soft buzz of the metal divider was the only sound in the car for several seconds.
“Like I was saying,” he said, “My morning is off by two and a half hours, and that has never happened to me in over a decade.”
I said nothing.
“Do you have any idea what that means?”
Still, nothing.
“You know how I feel about time, Miss Stone,” he said. “And for you to blatantly attempt to screw me over?—”
“If taking care of myself once every blue moon is screwing you over, then that says more about you than me.”
“I don’t like when you interrupt me.”
“You do it to me all the time.”
“I’m your boss.”
“For the next few weeks only.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” I said. “I don’t care about your ridiculous 13B clause. I’m stressed the hell out, and I need relief in any way I can get it.”
“Quitting me would add to your stress, Miss Stone.”
