I feel like a child. “But you don’t understand, Emery. There’s this?—”
“Three. You’ve got to attend at least three classes before you quit,” she states. “Fair?”
I grumble, unable to say no to her. “Fine.”
But I’m changing seats.
THE BASTARDS
EMERY
If he grinsat me with that look in his eyes one more fucking time, I will throw a goddamn stapler at his stupid little head.
Seriously.
Can’t he act like a normal adult and forget about what he witnessed at the fundraiser? Can’t he at leastpretendnot to know? We’re at work. A place of professionalism. This is supposed to be a safe space. God, this is alltheirfault. With their wily little fingers and beastly appetites for salaciousness.
Oh, quit whining. You wanted it too.
I wince inwardly. Damn it. Maybe I do need to resign.
“Miss Jones?” Amir calls out from across the boardroom table. “What do you think?”
I think you’re an ass. I think that your subtle innuendos are getting old. I think that I’m mortified every time I walk into the same room as you. I think I’d like to pull a Cher and turn back time.
“I think commercial is fine,” I say through a tight-lipped smile. “Better for the brand. I’m almost certain that every other executive team will fly private. At least we can say we align our daily practices with our philanthropic mission. Sustainability.”
Amir grins.That’s it. Someone is going to have to physically hold me back.
The worst part of this whole ordeal is that everyone else just thinks he’s friendly and peppy. But that ridiculous smile of his is laced with so many nefarious undertones that he could very well be the new ruler of Hades. Which, given heownsClubHades, is ironic as fuck.
“Surely, we can fly first class at least?” He cocks his head. “Please don’t tell me that we’ll be stuck in economy for five hours.”
I roll my eyes. Not very professional. “First class is fine.”
“Great.” Amir claps his hands. “I’m excited. I think this trip will be very beneficial to the team.” He smirks at me. “And our brand.”
Gross.
“Is that all for today?” I preemptively pack up my laptop bag. Fridays are now my favorite day of the week.
“In a rush to get home, Miss Jones?” Amir rounds the boardroom table as my colleagues filter out of theroom. He perches on the edge, handing me my planner. “Big plans this evening?”
“Nope.”
That was curt but fuck it. I am drawing boundaries. And he’ll be an idiot to cross them. One word to Damon, and Amir might not be able to talk at all. To anyone. And Quin… Well, Quin would find a solution in a more amicable manner. I love that about him. He tends to take the high road. Lord knows Damon can learn a thing or two from him. But I love Damon, nonetheless. He makes everything that much more exciting.
A sudden need to have their bodies pressed against mine rushes through my veins, directly to my core. Oh. Now I really want to get home.
“No plans?” He brushes his thumb over his bottom lip. “Interesting.”
I sigh, hating that I’m sinking in his quicksand of intrigue. “Why? Why is that interesting?”
He shrugs, a gleam of humor crossing his features. “Oh, nothing. It’s just I heard some whispers that the dynamic duo will be making an appearance at the club tonight.”
I blanch. Tonight? They want to go tonight? I can’t. I won’t. There must be a different club. Somewhere far, far away from my fucking boss. I’ve heard rumors that Suffer N’ Rage is an up-and-coming spot. But it’s not as discreet. As exclusive.
Amir smirks. “You’re blushing, Miss Jones.”
