When I got the promotion that was coming my way, I knew my first order of business.
I couldn’t wait to fire Callie and watch her nice ass leave for good.
Chapter Four
Callie
The bartender acted like I wasn’t even there. He was tucked away at the corner of the bar, talking to two women who looked like between them they couldn’t count to ten even with the calculators on their phones.
I looked down at myself.
Maybe I’m losing my touch.
Or maybe the cheeseburger, fries, and milkshake were hitting my hips and ass too hard and I wasn’t hot enough to get a drink.
No way, Callie.
I heard that in Misha’s voice.
Guys would sleep with almost any woman.
Now at the end of the bar were two women who were rails. Who needed to be secured in the wind or else they’d just blow away. Who ate that fake salad crap I had back at my office.
Other guys knew how to appreciate a real woman.
A woman who could eat a meal, ease into her natural curves, and just simply enjoy life.
“Dammit,” I groaned.
I turned my head and swore I caught Jackson looking at my ass.
Hell no, Jackson. Hell. No.
I spun around and didn’t say a word.
“What?” he asked in a nasty voice.
He was pissed at me.
Rightfully so.
I cockblocked him into next Tuesday.
That was all part of my plan.
Keep him on his toes and his balls full. He’d end up flustered and stupid. Then I would be able to sweep in and seal this deal so I could look Vince in the eyes and make it known that the promotion was mine. That I would be second in command around the office.
And the best part?
Vince loved money.
So did I.
I could make him a lot of money. And a lot for myself too.
The other perk would be telling Jackson what to do.
“Hey, when I leave, there’s plenty of other victims here,” I said. “Don’t let that one get to you.”
“I had her,” Jackson said. “She was mine. We were connecting.”
“Connecting?” I asked. “The only thing you connect is your phone to a charger after scrolling through porn.”
“I don’t scroll through porn,” Jackson said. “I watch it. I admire it. You know, some guys skip around… they go right to the ending… not me. I appreciate the art of it.”
“Oh, the art of it,” I said. “Right.”
“I’m sorry. You’re Miss Innocence?”
“I never said that.”
“So what do you watch then, Callie? What gets the ice melting around your heart and in your panties?”
“I don’t wear panties,” I said.
Jackson laughed. “That’s something I don’t need to know.”
“You brought it up.”
“Actually, you did,” Jackson said. “So worried about what kind of porn I watch.”
Just as Jackson said that, a woman passed him by.
She looked at him quickly, surprised.
He reached for her and touched her arm.
“It’s fine,” Jackson said. “Porn is healthy. It’s natural to want to pleasure yourself.”
The woman hurried away.
I clapped my hands together. “Wow. That was rough to watch. You’re off your game tonight, Jackson. You better get some sleep. Rub one out. We have a big meeting tomorrow.”
“I am not off my game,” he said.
“I really need a drink,” I said. I looked to my left. “This one yours?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I was going to get Angela another one. Oh, Angela… I miss her already…”
I grabbed Jackson’s drink and downed the whole thing in one big shot.
It was fire and needles in my throat.
“Holy shit, Callie,” Jackson said. “That was a double… you know what? Have another. Have ten. Go home. Throw up. Sleep in tomorrow. Just take the day off.”
“Nice try,” I said. “I can handle my liquor, my sleep, and my meeting.”
“Your meeting?” Jackson asked.
“I’m the one who got the jump on LoriTech.”
“Bullshit,” Jackson said. “I’ve been watching them for a while.”
“You have not. Tell me about the CEO then.”
Jackson stepped up to the bar, bumping into me to get me out of his way. He stuck his fingers into his mouth and whistled.
Of course the bartender looked right at him.
Jackson put up two fingers and the bartender went to work.
Then he looked at me with a cocky grin.
I hated his dark, messy hair that still looked good. His dark eyes, perfect cheekbones and jaw line. Even the stubble on his face… he was such a cliché guy.
“The company was formed in a college dorm two years ago.”
“Not true,” I said. “The initial idea was three years ago. In Dicky’s parents’