Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,3
how we treat our custo…”
Mr. Wade held up his palm, offering no sign of human warmth or civility. “I’ve already wasted enough of my morning on incompetent idiots. I don’t need to hear a list of excuses from some bottle blonde who calls herself a vice president yet can’t figure out how to ensure her clients have proper limo service from the airport.”
Taylor’s mouth fell open as she witnessed poor Vera’s face turn red. Had this man actually called Vera an idiot and then ridiculed her appearance?
“Yes, well,” Vera cleared her throat. “My sincerest apologies, Mr. Wade. I promise I’ll speak to our Travel Services Manager immediately. It won’t happen again.”
Taylor couldn’t believe that Vera had let Mr. Wade’s comments slide. She was about to say something when Vera turned her head in Taylor’s direction. “Taylor, whenever you’re ready.” Something in her tone made Taylor bite back her words.
“Of course. Just one second while I pull up the presentation.” She popped open her laptop and the home screen came up, but the presentation shortcut was missing.
What? But how? She looked up at the anxious faces around the table. Okay, hurrying, hurrying…She clicked on the documents tab and found the file, but when she tried to open it, the little circle on the screen kept spinning, like an evil doughnut taunting her sanity. “Um…” She looked at Mr. Wade. “My computer is a little slow; big file. Probably too big because I stayed up late making sure—”
“So, Bennett,” Vera chimed in, “while Taylor is taking her sweet time loading the presentation, why don’t you tell the team here—”
“Did we fuck last night?” Bennett interrupted, his cold gaze locked on Vera’s face.
Taylor froze and looked across the table, unsure if she’d heard him correctly.
“Sorry?” Vera’s face went from red to a mortified shade of white.
Bennett Wade leaned forward in his chair toward Vera. “Did. We. Fuck. Last night?”
The room filled with a ghastly, awkward vibe, and Taylor was pretty damned sure everyone was pinching themselves underneath the table. Had he really said that?
Vera shook her head. “I—I don’t understand.”
Pinning Vera with his eyes, Mr. Wade slowly eased back in his chair, his black suit stretching across his shoulders. “Only my mother and women I fuck get to call me Bennett. So unless I got stinking drunk last night, which would have to be the case for me to ever touch a woman like you, then you’ll refer to me as Mr. Wade.”
Whatthehell? Taylor felt a fire of outrage ignite in the pit of her stomach. “You know what?” She slapped the table, stood, and then pointed to the door. “Get out.”
Mr. Wade blinked his blue eyes at her as if he wasn’t quite sure what she’d just said.
“In fact,” she added, “get the hell off my planet. People like you are what make this world a shitty place for the rest of us who are just trying to be happy and make a living.”
Vera popped up from her seat. “Taylor, don’t.”
“Oh, no,” Mr. Wade said, with a superficial smile, “by all means, please go on, Miss…”
“Reed. And that’s Ms. Reed to you. You…pig in a suit.”
“Taylor! Outside. Now!” barked Vera.
But Taylor had really had it with guys like this who thought that they could behave any way they liked simply because they had money. She thought of the countless times she’d had to fend off unwanted solicitations by half her male clientele over the past few years. They always made it a point to want to talk business over dinner. Just last week, in fact, one of Mr. Wade’s golfing buddies, a rich asshat named Chip who worked for his mommy’s big perfume company had actually proposed a “weekend dinner meeting” in Vegas. Who did that in this day and age? But of course, these pompous billionaires didn’t seem to care that she found their advances offensive. The more blunt she became with no, the more they seemed to enjoy pursuing her. And what had Vera said about it? “Taylor, these are professional, successful businessmen who know better, especially considering the damage one lawsuit could do to their companies. I’m sure they’re just trying to be friendly—that’s all.” Vera clearly didn’t understand that while women and minorities had come a long, long way, the boys’ club was alive and well in corporate America. Just take a look at the annual report of any large company. Female faces were scarce and there was generally only one shade of the rainbow.