Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
“Then why is my overall score 92%?”
“Because you clearly cheated, and you’re scared to know the truth.”
He looks like he’s seconds away from losing his shit, like he’s about to fire me.
In the uneasy quiet, reality dawns on me with every second that passes.
Myra’s private school tuition. My mortgage. BILLS.
Before I can consider sucking up my pride and fixing the damage, he speaks.
“Did you speak to your previous boss this way, Miss Clarke?”
“I didn’t have to,” I say. “He wasn’t an insufferable—”
“Watch it.” He cuts me off. “If he was so good to you, why did you leave him and come to me?”
“I came to your company, Mr. Pearson, because you paid more. That’s it. Full stop.”
“And you honestly believe that I became a billionaire CEO without knowing what I’m doing?”
“I believe you don’t know how to talk to people.”
“Okay, Miss Clarke,” he says. “You can leave now.”
“Am I fired?”
“Obviously,” he says. “I’ll chalk it up to you not turning in the report when I speak to HR, though. I won’t mention your lack of respect for my authority.”
I clench my fists at my sides, and he arches a brow.
“Why does it look like you’re about to fight me, Miss Clarke?” he asks. “Surely, you can understand my decision.”
“I don’t understand anything about you.” I step back. “For the record, fuck you, and thank you for giving me the chance to find someone better.”
“You mean ‘something’?”
“That’s what I said.”
“It wasn’t.”
We stare at each other in silence for several moments, and I ignore the rush of heat coursing through my body, the way he’s looking at me in a way that’s highly inappropriate.
It takes everything in me not to serve a final parting shot, and even longer to turn away from him and head to the door.
The moment I open it, he’s behind me, slamming it shut.
“Tell you what, Miss Clarke…” He spins me around to face him. “I’ve changed my mind. You’re not fired.”
“I’m still looking for someone else.”
“Look for lessons on how to use indefinite pronouns, too.” He places his hands above my head, caging me in. “Then again, given your new punishment, I don’t think you’ll have the time.”
I stare at him, confused.
“Since you think I’m so terrible you can work on the C-Suite team with me ahead of the IPO launch.”
“I’m not interested in working anywhere near you.”
“It pays triple what you’re currently making, and I think you could use a lesson in professionalism.”
“Then who’ll be the teacher?”
“Funny.” His lips are close enough to kiss me, and I don’t move away. “Do we have a deal?”
“I want the raise upfront…”
“Fine.” He steps back. “I’ll send a car for you in the morning. Be ready at four thirty.”
“Whoa, wait a minute.” I shake my head. “Tomorrow is Saturday.”
“And?”
“It’s the weekend. Well, technically, this weekend starts today the moment I get off, but…”
“I work seven days a week, Miss Clarke,” he says. “And since we have an IPO going live within six weeks, I won’t be taking a single day off. Neither will you if you’d like to keep your job.”
“But—”
“I need you to leave my office,” he says, opening the door for me. “Be ready at four thirty, or move on to ‘someone’ else…”
THE CEO
LUCIAN
What the hell have I done?
THE ACCOUNTANT
KENDALL
At exactly 4:15 a.m., a sleek black Mercedes idles in front of my brownstone like a hearse.
Unable to accept my new hours, Myra has blocked the front door with chairs from the dining room and closet boxes.
Sighing, I take my time putting them back in place. Then I press a kiss on her forehead while she sleeps before penning a note on her nightstand.
This new position is only for a month & a half
I’ll treat you to an entire week of vacation when I’m done. I promise.
No babysitter this weekend, but Mindy will stop by a few times to see if you want to get out and do something fun.
Please forgive me.
Love you,
Aunt K
Making sure that I have my laptop and notebooks, I grab my jacket and step outside.
Even with a percentage of my new salary deposited into my account hours ago, I feel extremely insecure about working with a new team. Especially the C-Suite.
Rumor has it that their work hours are even more hellish than the regular employees, but unlike us they don’t have any spare seconds to complain about it.
As I’m locking the door, Mr. Pearson emerges from the driver’s side.
He’s not wearing one of his trademark suits today. Instead, he’s in a crisp white button-down rolled to the elbows, dark blue jeans molding to his frame. The sight is too casual, too intimate, and it turns me on in ways I refuse to admit.
“Good morning, Miss Clarke.” He opens the passenger door for me. “Glad to see you making the right decision.”
I move closer, but then I freeze. “I thought you said a driver was coming for me.”