Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 91767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
He marches to the door and opens it in a rush, “Go back to your desk and get to work.”
“No.”
“Do. As. I. say,” he growls.
“No.”
“Do not tell me no!” He’s about to go into cardiac arrest. “You work for me, not the other way around.”
“You’re in your underpants, you know?” I gesture down at his body. “The whole office could walk in and see you.”
“I fucking know that,” he screams, but he must realize that I’m right and he slams the door shut again. He marches over to his suit as it lays on the chair.
“And where do you think you’re going to work, hey?” He picks up his pants and being so angry, he struggles to put them on. “Do you think you are going to work with a competitor? Because I call fucking bullshit.”
“I’m taking some time off for me.” I cross my arms as I watch his tantrum unfold.
He flicks his pants angrily in front of him. “You can’t afford to take time off.”
“Yes. I can.”
“Well, you can get this harebrained idea out of your head right fucking now, Grace,” he yells, he pulls his pants up so fast that his leg gets caught, and he nearly falls over. “Fuck off,” he cries in frustration.
I roll my lips to hide my smile.
“Get out,” he screams, the veins in his forehead are bulging, and he’s going red.
I let out a deep exhale, “There is no need to be this dramatic, Gabriel.”
“I tore up your letter, it doesn’t count. Take the day off and come to your senses.”
“That’s not happening, I’ve already emailed my resignation to HR and will be finishing up on the twenty-second of December.”
“What?” he explodes. “That’s four days away.”
“I know.”
“Get out,” he screams as he loses all control.
“Fine.” I walk out and he slams the door behind me, it echoes through the whole of New York.
Jeez.
I sit for a moment,
Bang.
I jump when I hear something hit the back of his door; I think it was his pen holder.
Ugh….. he’s always so over the top.
Bzzzzz,
I push the button to answer my intercom, “Yes, Mr. Ferrara?”
“Get to work!”
I smirk, man…. I need caffeine, it’s way too early for all this drama.
I make my way to the kitchen, and I hear the elevator ding.
Gabriel comes flying out of his office like a hornet.
“There is a gas leak on this floor, go away,” he yells to Geoffrey.
“What?” poor Geoffrey stammers wide eyed. “Should I call someone?”
“I already have. Work from level two today,” he barks. “Tell everyone else from this floor to work from there too, put a note in the elevator.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose…. seriously?
This is going to be the day from hell.
I walk back out into the office with my cup of coffee.
“We need to work from level two today,” Geoffrey tells me. “There’s a gas leak.”
“Oh, okay.” I act oblivious. “I’ll grab my things.”
Gabriel narrows his eyes and points to his office, “A word Miss Porter,” he sneers.
Geoffrey looks between us in confusion.
“It’s okay Geoffrey, you go on without me. Mr. Ferrara has been sniffing too much gas, he’s having a meltdown.”
Geoffrey’s eyes widen as he looks between us, “Oh no. Should I call an ambulance?”
“Go to level two, Geoffrey!” Gabriel screams.
Geoffrey scrambles to get his things and half runs to the elevator.
I sit down and open my computer, Gabriel paces back and forth in front of my desk, his hands are on his hips, and his eyes are crazy.
“Fine, twenty percent pay raise, that’s it,” he snaps.
I stay silent.
He continues to pace, “Hardball hey…. Twenty-five percent and that’s it.”
I begin to type as I act uninterested, “No, thanks.”
“What do you mean no thanks?” he barks.
“It’s not about the money.”
“Everything is about money,” he fires back.
I roll my eyes and go back to my computer.
“Fifty percent pay raise and that’s totally fucking it.”
I keep typing. “No.”
“Double your wage and do not fucking talk to me again. This is daylight robbery,” he screams. “You are trying to fuck me up the ass, and I won’t have it.”
I was expecting a tantrum, but this is the living end. I shake my head in disgust, “Can you even hear yourself right now? The last thing I want to do is fuck you up the ass.”
He puts his hands on his hips and begins to pace again, his mind is racing.
I continue to pretend to type, and I do have to admit, him groveling is doing wonders for my confidence.
“Fine, don’t go to Tiffany’s today, it doesn’t matter. I won’t get her the gift.”
Huh?
I look up from my computer, does he know?
“Why would you say that?”
“That’s it, isn’t it?” he says.
“We are not having this conversation, Gabriel,” I snap.
“Yes. We. Fucking. Are.”
“I’m leaving because I’ve bought myself a house.”
He takes a step back, completely shocked. “You bought a house?”