I need to shut that down right now. I know that whenever I act like a dick to her, it puts her back up and summons her fighting spirit.
See, by being an asshole, I’m actually being a nice guy.
I dial up the intensity of my scowl. “What trends are we expecting for fall?” I bark at her.
She clears her throat, composing herself, and blinks a couple of times. “Starting with the younger crowd, the bohemian style is big this year. Sterling silver hoops. Big, chunky turquoise jewelry. Suede fringe on purses, and colors inspired by nature, with– ”
“All right,” I grit out. “Why did you make your dog pee on my leg?” Not a job-related question, but it doesn’t matter. I’m the boss – I don’t have to play fair.
She meets my gaze with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “He’s not my dog, and I have no control over where he whizzes. The fact that you were rude to me immediately beforehand is pure coincidence.”
Rude? Me? That was practically flirting on my part. She hasn’t seen rude.
“Why did you deliver boxes of Summer’s Eve to my doorstep?” she continues. “And how did you know where I live?”
“Who says I did?” I arch an eyebrow. “Everyone heard you calling me a douche-nozzle. You had the volume dialed up to eleven. People on Rhode Island heard you. Any one of those construction workers could have bribed your landlord for your name and apartment number and sent a bouquet of pink hybrid tea roses with baby’s breath and five boxes of Summer’s Eve, carefully arranged in a cut crystal vase.” She narrows her eyes at me, and I grin at her. “I mean, literally anyone could have done it. Henry could have done it.”
“Sir!” Henry protests, with an appalled look. He’s been standing so quietly I forgot he was there.
“Okay, probably not Henry,” I concede.
“Probably?” he mutters. I’m in for it. He’s my right-hand man, the Jeeves to my Wooster, and when I give him grief, he gets revenge in subtle ways. Like letting Winona into our cab.
Winona’s eyes narrow in annoyance at my near-confession. She sucks in a breath and lets it out again. She can’t tell me off the way she’d like to, though, if she wants to keep her job. That’s kind of fun.
What the hell is wrong with me? No. She cannot work in the same building as me. Hell, I don’t want her working in the same city as me. Well, she could work in the Bronx. That’s as close as I’ll allow.
I turn my attention to Thérèse. “I looked over her resume. She’s completely unqualified.”
“And she’s also standing within earshot of you.” Winona’s voice reminds me of chow-chow, a Southern relish that’s sweet but with a bite to it. “Would you like me to leave so you can say all this behind my back?”
My jaw clenches in an angry smile. “Oh, no, it’s much more satisfying this way.”
“Sir.” Thérèse’s voice wavers a little, and she leans on Winona’s desk. She’s melting like a wax candle under the heat of my fury. “We’ve hired people from a variety of backgrounds. It isn’t a licensed position like doctor, which requires a specific type of training.”
“Thanks, like that wasn’t obvious.” My tone is harsh, even for me. Thérèse swallows hard and looks away. Winona’s brows draw together and she shoots me a disapproving look.
Thérèse, who is now the color of chalk, clears her throat. A bead of sweat rolls down her forehead. “Are you ordering me not to hire her?”
When she puts me on the spot like that, I can’t justify telling Thérèse how to do her job. Since she was hired by my father, it would be like questioning his judgement. That is something I never do.
“I am on the record as saying she’s completely wrong for the position, but it’s your choice. And your responsibility. You could still change your mind and go with one of the other candidates.”
That earns me a fierce glower from Winona. She mouths the word “jerk”, crossing her arms across her chest. I definitely don’t notice the creamy swell of her bosom or the spray of freckles across her cleavage.
You think this is me being a jerk? Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.
I’ll table this for later, but I’m not letting it go.
I stalk out of the office, walking so fast that Henry has to scurry to keep up with me.
“I can’t believe Thérèse hired her,” I gripe as we ride