“Miss Jones, I presume,” he says, tone verging on playful. “How kind of you to finally join us. Please.” He gestures to the empty chair across the table directly in front of him. “Take a seat. We were just discussing this quarter’s business objectives.”
I give him a short nod but remain tight-lipped. I force myself to refrain from apologizing for being late. I’m also an executive, and I intend to be treated as one. Women tend to apologize far too often. For all they know, I could've been in an important meeting that delayed my presence. Fuck it. If he asks, that’s precisely why I’m late.
The meeting proves to be uneventful. Data, quotas, and KPIs spill from his lips as he attempts to assert his position as our new CEO. He appears to be well-liked by the others in the room. Especially the blonde. She’s our new president of Marketing. Given their familiarbanter, I assume they were professionally acquainted prior to both working at Cavanaugh.
“Oh, and Miss Jones,” Amir says, “you’ll be pleased to hear that the SEC completed their audit without finding any significant issues or violations. Thank you for all the work you did on that project.”
“Of course,” I say, tone neutral. “Until the next one.”
Amir lets out a hearty laugh and then changes the subject. “One last item I’d like to discuss is this year’s Global Leadership Summit. I’ve noticed it’s been several years since Cavanaugh Industries attended. I believe it would be beneficial for our organization to make an appearance. All top executives will be required to attend. Miranda will send more details later today.” He gives the table a warm smile. “That’s it. You’re dismissed.”
As we gather our belongings, Amir’s voice cuts through the hushed chatter. “Miss Jones.” I glance toward him, and he beckons me over with the curl of his index finger. “A moment, please.”
I might owe Damon fifty bucks.
“Yes?”
He tilts his head, his gaze sizing me up as he purses his lips. “I wanted to check in and make sure everything’s okay with you.”
I perk a brow.
“What I mean is…” He gives me a deceiving smile. “You took a rather long leave of absence. I would hate for your personal life to interfere with your professional life.”
“I’m an expert in compartmentalization, Mr. Hadid,” I say, mirroring his disarming sneer.
He smirks. “Is that so?” His gaze flits through the frosted glass walls of the boardroom. “I believe someone is waiting for you in your office.”
I bite my tongue. I’m going to kill Damon.
“Welcome back, Miss Jones.” Amir turns his attention to his tablet. “You’re dismissed.”
I scoff inwardly. Dismissed? What is this? High school? Without a word, I exit the boardroom and beeline to my office. It’s been two hours. Can he seriously not handle two hours alone? To come into my place of work and?—
As I burst through the doors of my office, ready to give Damon a piece of my mind, I’m stopped in my tracks, my eyes widening with pleasant surprise.
“Good morning, darling. Miss me?”
My heart flutters, and I drop all my shit on the floor and run toward him, leaping into his arms and smothering his face in kisses.
“Quin!”
THE EMERALD
QUINTON
Christ,she looks like literal sunshine. I’ll never tire of her smile, of the way she looks at me with unguarded admiration. Her office is private, but the blinds are drawn open, and yet she’s running toward me, leaping into my arms. If this were four weeks ago, she’d hesitate. She’d feel wary of displaying affection in front of others. I don’t blame her. Our arrangement is complicated. I know she hates the fact she cannot wear us both on her arms.
“Quin!” Emery nuzzles herself into my shoulder, her arm tight around my neck. “I didn’t think you’d be back until this evening.” She pulls away, her glistening gaze flitting across my face. “How was the conference?”
“Dreadful,” I reply, twirling a wayward strand of her hair between my fingers. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
She rolls her eyes. “Seriously, how was it? I heard Dr. Fiona Qian was speaking.”
I shoot a playful glare. “And how doyouknow of Dr. Fiona Qian?”
Emery perks a brow. “She’s a world-renowned cardiologist, Quinton.” She lightly taps the center of her chest. “Remember? Heart transplant? It’s kind of in my field of interest.”
“Fiona was marvelous.” Of course, Emery’s up to date with the latest trends in medicine. I shouldn’t have expected otherwise. “Her research into congenital heart failure is revolutionary. I think in the next decade, there will be phenomenal breakthroughs.”
