hair that was black and always down. She had a birdlike face. It was tiny and cute. And she wore big glasses, but not in that ironic way that so many people did nowadays.
It was just her face, glasses, and her style.
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”
I looked around and curled my lip.
The offices were all made of glass.
There was no privacy, except for Vince’s office.
That’s how he designed the office. He thrived off competition. And that didn’t bother me one bit. I liked that everyone could stare at my ass as I walked by. They could certainly kiss it too when I got the promotion that hung so close in the distance.
I’d be above Jackson - finally.
It wouldn’t matter that his uncle owned the investment company.
Jackson would have to answer to me.
And after all the years of playing nice, being friendly to his face… it would be done. Over with.
If he thought for one second I didn’t know what he said behind my back and what he tried to do to my career, he was out of his mind.
“Callie?” Misha whispered.
“What?” I snapped at her.
She gasped and stepped back.
Christ…
I realized how I must have looked at that moment.
Standing over Misha thanks to my blood red heels. I felt like my chest was puffed out, my hands balled up into fists. Like I was going to fight Misha.
I sighed and deflated back down to size.
I stepped out of my heels and my feet gave a collective thank fucking god.
You know, screw men.
They got to wear comfortable shoes. They had a bit of leisure to their attire.
Not me.
It had to be a different kind of clothing each day. I had to look one hundred percent ready for war.
Yet there were days when Jackson stumbled in with his tie undone, shirt half unbuttoned, his hair messy. A complete slob.
And you know what he did?
He ran his hand through his hair and - voila - he looked perfect.
I hated men.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Misha. “I just get-”
“Hungry,” she said. “Er, hangry.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I’ve got you covered,” Misha said.
She hurried away and came back with a brown paper bag with grease stains on it.
“You didn’t,” I said.
“Oh, I did,” Misha said.
“You went all the way down to Willie’s?”
“Yup,” she said. “Cheeseburger. Fries. Milkshake.”
“I could kiss you right now, Misha,” I said.
I went to my desk and sat down.
“I knew you’d need this,” she said. “You’re killing yourself. This deal is going to work. Not even Jackson can mess it up.”
“You say that…,” I said.
I bit into the cheeseburger and I shut my eyes and groaned.
I washed it down with a gulp of the milkshake.
I moaned.
Three seconds later I felt my ass already starting to get bigger.
“Are you okay over there?” Misha asked.
I opened my eyes. I swallowed. “Don’t judge me. It’s been a long time.”
“Since you’ve had Willie’s?”
“Yeah,” I said. “And… an actual willy…”
Misha snorted. “Um, if you’re calling guys dicks willy’s then you’re in big trouble.”
“At this point I feel like putting an open for business sign between my legs,” I said.
“Please, don’t do that,” Misha said.
“I wouldn’t. I’ve just been working a lot. I’ll get what I need soon enough. Trust me. I’m going to nail the deal, throw it in Jackson’s face, put Vince on the spot for the promotion… and then I’m going out and finding a guy. And you know what? I’m going to buy him a drink. Grab his tie. And tell him that he’s my bitch for the night.”
I bit into the cheeseburger with force.
The second bite was better than the first.
I attacked the meal with purpose.
And believe me, I felt guilty for it.
Which made me mad at myself.
I wiped my mouth when I was done and sat back in my chair.
“That’s not going to feel good later,” I said.
“Stop,” Misha said. “You only care about your weight right now because Jackson put his hands up and walked by you sideways last week.”
“No,” I said. “I’ve been… I don’t know. I’m not young anymore.”
“Oh, stop it,” Misha said.
“You know, I can fire you.”
“Do it,” Misha teased.
I grabbed a folder from my desk and stood up. “Instead of firing you, you’re going to listen to what I have for the meeting.”
“Again?”
“Again,” I said. “I’m making this work. This is my baby.”
“Okay, let’s hear it then,” Misha said.
“Also, before I forget, make sure you get the apartment thing figured out,” I said. “If I have to live with Sheila and her only wear a thong Pilates gimmick for