Page 48 of Under Her

I feel a lot calmer than I did before, but I haven’t changed my mind.

I still want Morgan gone from here. I want my life to go back to how it was before she came here and messed everything up.

I just need to figure out how to make that happen. I need a plan of action of how to get Morgan fired that doesn’t involve fucking up the Ananda deal.

Morgan is about to learn that there’s only one boss at Under Her Lingerie.

And that’s me.

It’s official. I’ve reverted back to my childhood ways.

When I was in kindergarten, I had this crush on Sandy Harman. She was the prettiest girl in my class. And, of course, like any other five-year-old who had a crush on a girl, I was mean to her. Pulled her pigtails, stole her juice box at lunch—that kind of thing.

Well, I’m reduced back to the days of Sandy Harman, except it’s with Morgan now.

She might be hotter than the sun, but she’s also the devil.

The next day after our argument, I was willing to be civil—until I get rid of her, that is. But Morgan apparently wasn’t on the same lines as me.

We had a morning meeting with finance. And then she accidentally stood on my foot on the way out of the conference room.

And she just happened to be wearing a pair of five-inch Louboutin heels.

Forget the fact that those are some serious come-fuck-me shoes, and in any other circumstances, I’d be lusting over her in those shoes.

But, if you’ve never had a five-inch stiletto heel drive its way into your foot, well, let me just tell you how much it hurts. A fuck of a lot.

A week later, I still have the bruise on my foot to prove it.

Let’s just say, I was pissed off after that little incident. So, I might have replaced that powdered milk shit that she puts in her coffee with confectioners sugar.

The sound of her choking and spluttering in the kitchen was the highlight of my day.

Well, until I came into work the next day and found that someone had changed the password on my computer, locking me out of my own damn PC. It didn’t take long for IT to sort it out, but it was more the inconvenience that pissed me off.

I only wish I were there to hear all the calls she must be receiving about the ad for the used vibrator, free to a good home, that had been listed on Craigslist yesterday with her name and number.

I know I’m an ass, but she deserves it.

I’ll take the ad down after this morning’s staff meeting. I reckon a day of annoying phone calls is enough payback for locking me out of my computer.

Maybe, if I’d put as much effort into coming up with a plan to get her out of here as I did with playing stupid pranks on her, then she might have been on her way out the door by now.

Morgan’s cell lights up with a call on the table in front of her. That’s the third time her phone has gone off since the meeting started forty minutes ago.

She sighs and reaches over, canceling the call.

I stifle a laugh.

Fuck, I love Craigslist.

I focus back on my mom’s voice. She’s saying something about this year’s targets.

I was originally leading this morning’s meeting, but somehow, my mom ended up taking over, so I took the only available seat, which was next to Morgan.

My parents officially retired last week. But they’ve both been in the office every day for one reason or another. I know it has nothing to do with thinking that Morgan and I aren’t capable of running the company—even if, at the moment, that’s questionable, as we can barely hold a conversation without throwing barbs at each other. But I know it’s because my parents are finding it hard to let go.

Her phone goes off again, and I can’t help but lean close to her and whisper in her ear, “You should probably get that. You don’t want to miss out on a potential sale.”