she was now officially on Royce’s shit list. Which meant that either way, her life was about to become a swirling turd pond. She’d get stuck with the worst shifts (as if there were a good one at Savoy), the worst tasks, and the worst verbal abuse. All her hard work, all the bullshit she’d endured for a year, was going to count for nothing.
Because of Braden Mack.
Liv felt her lip curl. It probably wasn’t fair to blame him, but none of this would have happened if he hadn’t ordered the stupid cupcake. He deserved to take the blame for something.
Riya gave Liv a quick hug. “Good luck.”
“You know it won’t help.”
“No, but it feels rude to say I’m glad it’s you and not me. No offense.”
“None taken.” Liv would feel the same if their situations were reversed. It was every man for himself at Savoy, even among friends.
Liv took the elevator to the third floor, where the administrative offices were located. The doors opened at the end of a long, dark hallway—an omen if she’d ever seen one. Most of the administrative staff had already left hours ago, and their cubicles now glowed an eerie shade of blue from their computer monitors. Liv had only been up here twice in the entire year she’d worked at Savoy. The first time had been when she was hired and had to fill out a bunch of employment paperwork and sign a nondisclosure agreement. Which had seemed like bullshit at the time, but now she understood why. The only way Royce was able to protect his perfect image was by ensuring that no one would talk after they left.
The second time she’d been up here was for a mandatory sensitivity training for all kitchen staff, which had been an hour-long test of her self-restraint. Had these people ever heard Royce in the kitchen? The human resources staff was either totally oblivious or completely hypocritical.
Royce’s office was at the end of the hallway. It took up the entire length of the floor and overlooked the bustling street below. The other two times she’d been up here, she’d been able to see inside through a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that she suspected Royce had installed just to show off his luxurious digs and make the cubicle losers feel like shit. Tonight, however, the blinds had been lowered on every window.
Liv dragged her feet closer. She just needed to get this over with. Whatever awaited her inside, she could deal with it. The office door was mostly closed but for a small crack that let out a sliver of light. Liv raised her hand to knock, but the low murmur of voices inside brought her fist to a halt inches from the door.
“Please, Royce. I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you that he was here.”
For fuck’s sake. He was still berating poor Jessica?
“You like this job?” he asked.
“Y-yes.”
“And you’d like to keep it?”
“Yes, but not like this. Please.”
Cold sweat dampened her armpits. What was going on in there? Liv slid to the left of the door so she wouldn’t be seen through the crack and cranked her head to press her ear toward the opening.
“I need to get back to work,” Jessica said.
“Your shift is over, honey.”
“But I still have some things I need to do.”
“You’re a hostess. What’s there left to do?”
“I-I have to log my time card in and—”
“If you want to keep your job, you know what you have to do.”
Rage turned Liv’s stomach to pure acid as indecision grabbed hold of her racing thoughts. There was no way she could walk away. Liv would never forgive herself if she left that poor girl in there to deal with this alone, but confronting Royce would definitely mean the end of her career. He wouldn’t just fire her. He would make sure she never worked in the industry again.
“Royce, wait,” Jessica suddenly pleaded.
Liv held her breath. What was going on in there? Who was she kidding? She knew exactly what was going on in there, and Royce sounded way too practiced at it.
“I could help your career,” Royce said in that snakelike voice. Liv’s stomach churned as she imagined what he meant.
“Please, Royce. I need to go.”
“You’re not interested in learning . . . new things?”
“I just want to do my job.”
“I think you want more than that.”
There was a rustling sound. A shuffle of feet on carpet. A whisper she couldn’t hear.
“Please stop,” Jessica suddenly begged.
Liv had heard