As I walked down the hall toward Ren’s office, I did it smiling.
This was because I’d never been to his office and if the inside of the building was anything to go by, his space, as well as my space, was going to be the bomb.
Holding a carrier with two of Tex’s coffees in one hand and a bag of LaMar’s in the other, I turned left at the tall, wood door with the burnished silver plaque at the side that said Zano Holdings Ltd. and juggled the bag as I pushed the fancy handle down.
I was curious to see where Ren spent his days. But as I walked in, I didn’t look around his office.
I looked at the woman behind his reception desk.
Dawn was sitting there.
Dawn.
Dawn, Lee’s ex-receptionist.
Dawn, who I hated because she hated me (and everybody, except Lee and his boys; until they were picked off by the Rock Chicks that was).
Dawn, who got fired because she got caught on in-house surveillance badmouthing Jules while she was in the hospital after she got shot. Lee lost his mind, Luke lost his mind, and they dropped what they were doing in order not to delay in returning to the office and terminating her.
Dawn, who, until that moment, I was certain had crawled into the dark, damp, inhospitable holes beautiful but exceedingly bitchy women retreated to when they got their asses whupped (even figuratively).
Dawn, who was not hiding away in an inhospitable hole but instead sitting in Ren’s offices, glaring at me.
“What the hell?” I whispered.
“I heard you had a thing with Ren,” she snapped, totally still bitchy.
“What the hell?” I repeated, louder this time.
“I prayed it wasn’t true, but apparently God doesn’t listen to me,” she went on.
“What the hell!” I shouted.
“The only thing I can say is, I still have hope for Dom because everyone knows he has a wandering eye,” she kept at it.
“What the hell?” I screeched.
“Ally, Jesus, what’s the matter?” Ren asked, exiting a hall to my side.
For once, his powerful frame in trousers and a dress shirt did nothing for me.
“Dawn works for you,” I snapped, and it came out an accusation, as it should.
He didn’t glance at Dawn as he headed to me, but his face said a lot and all of what it said made me feel better.
Slightly.
In other words, he didn’t like her.
He got close to me, took the carrier of coffee then took my hand and spared Dawn a glance to order, “Hold my calls.”
“Of course, Ren,” she said, sweet as sugar on an eyes-hooded smile that said—right in front of me—she’d hold anything he asked.
Bitch.
Ren led me down the hall and into an office, which I again did not take in, mostly because I was fuming. He then led me to a big desk. He put down the coffee, grabbed the donut bag from my hand, tossed it with the coffee then pulled me loosely into his arms.
When he had me there, he said quietly, “Dom hired her.”