My Cruel Lover (Wicked Poison #3) - T.L. Smith Page 0,3
paid to do, nothing more.
“I’m your new assistant.”
He looks at me again. “You’re fired. Shut my door!”
“I …” No other words leave my mouth.
“Fired. Shut the damn door.”
I step back and do as he says, maybe with a little more emphasis than needed, when I hear the bang of its closing, then I stand there unsure of what to do. I’ve only been here for a few months, and now, well, I’m fired. But for what? I don’t understand.
“Just sit down and do your work. He fires Gloria every other day of the week,” a man pipes up from across the hall. He pushes his glasses up his nose and saunters off. I look at the chair where I’m meant to be sitting and wonder if it’s suicide if I sit down in it.
Shit.
I really need this job.
So I take a chance I’m not going to be escorted from the building anytime soon.
Sitting, I start the computer and arrange the work on my desk. Gloria has left me detailed notes everywhere, which proves to be very helpful. Pity she didn’t tell me I would be getting fired on my first day working for that man. I breathe out a heavy sigh.
“Gloria.” I turn at the sound of that voice.
He yells it again.
Then again.
I stand and step over to his door, contemplating opening it until the door swings open in front of me.
“You,” he seethes, then looks past me to my desk and then back to me.
“Yes. What can I get for you, Mr. Harley?” He steps back and slams the door, not answering me.
Well, okay then.
I’m glad I was able to be of assistance!
I take my seat and get back to work.
A few hours later, the door opens again, and Beckham stands there, large and intimidating.
“If you insist on staying …” He breathes out heavily. “Then get my lunch.” He shuts the door again with a slam.
Lunch?
Fuck!
What lunch?
My eyes search for the guy who helped me before, but he’s not there. I could try to work out what Mr. Harley eats, but I’m afraid he will just fire me again. So, I grab my purse and run down to Rylee’s office to find her lost in her work. It takes her a moment to notice me, but when she looks up, she smiles at me.
“What does your brother eat?” I ask.
Her brows scrunch, and she looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
“Eat? For lunch?” she asks. I nod. “He gets his own lunch, usually.”
“He ordered me to get him lunch. But there were no instructions as to what.”
Rylee offers me a sad smile and rolls her eyes.
“He has a wholemeal sandwich with ham and salad. The shop down below knows his order. It never changes. Just say his name and they will know what to do.”
“Thanks.” I run off and go straight downstairs. When I arrive at the shop, the line is long, so I keep checking the time to make sure I’m not taking too long. The only problem is, I am. I can’t push in front of everyone. They are all in a rush.
Yeah, but will they be fired for taking too long?
As the line slowly moves, I bite my lip. There are at least twenty people in front of me, and they are taking forever. My stomach grumbles, making me realize I haven’t eaten either.
It takes another ten minutes before the line moves a few more steps forward.
Suddenly, I notice everyone has stopped. Standing in front of the line is someone who wasn’t there before.
His suit is unmissable.
It’s immaculate.
Just as he is.
His normally gray eyes darken, and they narrow as he stares me down. I see him take hold of his sandwich and walk toward me. My heart rate picks up, waiting for him to get to me.
“I asked for my food over twenty-minutes ago. Did you get lost?” he seethes, and everyone goes so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “I own this place. You push in to get my food next time. Do you understand?”
I nod. It’s the only thing I seem to manage when I am around him. Where the hell is my backbone, I seem to have lost it.
“Are you all of a sudden mute, too?” he barks at me.
I flinch, and he shakes his head before he literally stomps off like some sort of petulant child.
The line moves, and I can feel everyone’s stare on me as we inch forward. When I finally arrive at the front of the