“You are.” He nodded. “Until I find the time to replace you.”
“I can speed up that process by helping.”
“You’re not in HR,” he said. “I’ll handle that. Trust me.”
“I don’t.” I stood up. “I don’t trust you, and I should’ve known this was too good to be true.”
“How many minutes do I need to allot for this next argument?” He glanced at his watch. “I’d prefer if we didn’t go past nine.”
“I can’t be your assistant and the highest financial officer in the company, Harrison.”
“You becoming CFO doesn’t put us on a first-name basis, Miss Stone.”
“You can’t keep doing this to me.” My chest ached. “Like, do you not see how ridiculous you’re being?”
“I doubled your salary,” he said evenly. “I didn’t double your authority.”
“I don’t have time to pack for a conference that’s a week away right now,” I said. “I have a full schedule of meetings.”
“I signed us up for the additional corporate tier.” He completely ignored my comment. “That starts tomorrow morning, so I suggest you do the math on the flight and when you need to be at the private airport this evening. Oh, and…
I couldn’t hear the rest of his words.
All I could do was glare at him with utter rage running through my veins.
After this conference, I was getting a lawyer.
I’m done. Forever this time.
TWENTY-EIGHT
HARRISON
Andrea stepped out of the town car on the private tarmac, the early evening light catching the glass of the terminal behind her.
Even from the bottom of the steps, I could see it.
Her eyes were red and puffy.
When she climbed the stairs and stepped into the aisle of my private plane, I set down my tablet.
“Are you sick?” I asked. “Have you been crying?”
“No, Mr. Cross,” she said. “I’ve been accepting.”
“Accepting what?” I asked.
“Reality.” She placed her bag in the closet. Then she settled into the seat across from me.
“Will there be any more passengers this evening, Mr. Cross?” the flight attendant asked.
“No,” I answered. “Just me and Miss Stone.”
She nodded and served us water and fruit before checking in with the pilot.
I waited for Andrea to elaborate—to explain herself—but she was simply glaring at me.
“As much as I’d like to play the staring game with you,” I said, “I’d rather use our time doing something productive. Do you have my introductory speech ready?”
