Because you know you don’t want to work with her.
Yeah. That was about it.
No matter how little time I actually had to spend in this office over the next few days, based on my own responses every time we were in conflict, I could not see myself dealing with Devi Sereda any more than I absolutely had to. If I could filter my communication with Devi and the rest of the staff through Lizzie, from now on, that would be for the best.
Especially if I wanted to remain “beyond reproach.”
Last thing I needed was Devi Sereda coming in here in her orgasmic dresses and high heels with the lasers in her eyes and picking fights with me, again and again.
It felt far too much like foreplay.
Christ, there was something seriously wrong with me.
You are not here to be a dick.
Or to use your dick.
Unfortunately, my dick was not getting that message.
When Devi shut the door after her coworker left and met my eyes, and I was sure she was about to rip into me, my dick had leapt to attention at the way her chest rose and fell in that dress. She’d lost the blazer, and what was left beneath was a five-alarm inferno.
And apparently, the intensity of her loathing for me was being misconstrued by my cock as another kind of passion.
Inconvenient.
Disturbing, even.
Honestly, I hadn’t felt a goddamn twitch down there since the morning I found out that sex tape had been leaked—and emailed to my mother and my grandmother.
There was a brief window two days ago, actually, in the middle of a particularly grueling meeting with my mother, my grandmother, and Corben the Most Judgmental Human, when I feared I may never get it up again.
I dropped into the chair. My phone was going off. Calendar alerts popping up, reminding me of the meetings I had coming up this afternoon. Reminding me to check in with Velma. Reminding me to eat.
Reminding me I had new emails waiting.
I glanced at the inbox on my laptop screen. There was a new email near the top. Sent by Devi, mere seconds ago.
Something told me I should roll this chair back and get up, grab my jacket and walk out. Get lunch, head to my afternoon meetings. Let Lizzie handle things at the agency, including Devi.
Instead, I clicked the email open.
It was the staff list and breakdown of duties that I’d asked her for. Clearly, she’d been working on it for a while. Even when she’d given me grief about it, she’d probably already been working on it.
At a glance, it looked complete, exactly what I’d asked for. And right at the top of the list of staff, she’d written:
Elizabeth “Lizzie” James
Job:AgentAgency Manager
Duties: A woman who conducts herself as I do can only imagine.
I was surprised she’d put that in a work email.
She hadn’t shown her hand in front of Janelle at the restaurant yesterday, or in front of Lizzie today. She hadn’t let the snark slip through. Only in private conversation with me.
It made me wonder what else she might divulge on a one-to-one basis.
Yeah, that thought was a little too irresistible.
