Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Oh, boy. It's going to be a long, long week.
"Maybe we should go get set up," I whisper to Gemma, my stomach trembling with anxiety. If Micah keeps looking at Stanley like that, there's no way we're going to be able to pull this off. The man may be the devil, but he isn't stupid. He'll have us clocked in no time.
***
I squirm in my seat, watching Micah pace back and forth across the conference room like a caged lion.
"I'm not fucking over my clients, Stanley," he growls, eyes narrowed on my boss. "Maybe that's what you recommend to the rest of your clients, but you can cut that bullshit right now. It's not happening. I want that clause stricken from the contract now."
"Micah, I highly recommend—"
"I said no," Micah snarls, spinning on my boss. "Take the fucking clause out."
Stanley sits quietly for a moment, seething in fury before he finally relents. "Davina, strike it from the proposed contract."
I crossed it out fifteen minutes ago, knowing Micah would win this argument. It's his company. He makes the rules. And nothing stands in my daddy's way when he wants something. He's fierce.
My eyes lock with his, his expression softening incrementally. If he disliked my boss four hours ago, he really dislikes him now.
"Davina!" Stanley snaps his fingers in front of my face, making me jump.
I knock over a stack of files, sending papers scattering everywhere.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Stanley mutters. "Not this shit again. It's like you were born yesterday."
"Knock it the fuck off," Micah growls.
"It's fine," Stanley says as if he thinks Micah is growling at me. "She's always like this."
I stare in dismay at the papers fluttering to the floor in a jumbled mess. I immediately sink to the floor to start gathering them up, my hands shaking.
Micah's on his knees beside me before the last of the papers even hit the floor. His long, strong fingers work in tandem with mine, scooping up wayward sheets with an efficiency that only he possesses. His touch electrifies me, sending tingles up my arm every time our hands brush.
Stanley's muttering turns into a full-on tirade, his disapproval an electric shock reverberating through the room. "I should have assigned Jessica as the lead on this. At least she has her shit together. You're a disaster waiting to happen."
I flinch, tears welling in my eyes.
"Stanley," Micah growls, his voice sharp and venomous, "shut the fuck up."
"Excuse me?"
"I didn't stutter." Micah's gaze flickers up to my boss, his expression deadly serious. "She made a mistake. Accidents happen. But if you ever dare speak to someone like that again in this office, you can get the hell out."
"Well, I…" Stanley sputters, his face turning red with anger.
"Apologize," Micah demands, his voice low and menacing. "Right now."
"What?"
"Apologize," Micah repeats, his words dripping with warning. "To Davina."
"That's really not necessary," I whisper, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
"No, it is necessary," Micah says firmly, his tone softening as he looks at me. "This is my office. He may be a dick in his own office, but he won't act like one in my presence." His gaze snaps back to Stanley, ice cold and unrelenting. "Apologize. Now."
Stanley bristles at Micah's demand but seems to know better than to protest. Micah could yank him off this project in a heartbeat and give it to another lawyer at the firm. I think Stanley knows he'll do it, too.
"My apologies, Davina," he says through gritted teeth.
Micah jerks his chin toward the door. "Good. Now, take your fucking lunch break."
With a huff of indignation, Stanley sweeps up his coat and stomps out of the room.
"Why don't you go ahead, too, Ms. Sharon?" Micah suggests calmly, his gaze locked on my face. "Davina and I will get these files back in order before we reconvene."
"Of course, Micah." Sharon is out of her chair in a split second, making a beeline for the door with her purse over her arm.
Silence falls over us as it clicks closed behind her, broken only by the rustle of paper as I continue to gather up the scattered documents. My face burns with embarrassment.
"You okay?" Micah asks gently, his concerned gaze boring into me. I see the anger and protectiveness simmering in his whiskey eyes.
"Fine," I mumble, bowing my head as I focus on straightening the mess.
He hooks his fingers under my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. His touch is light but insistent, leaving no room for argument. "Look at me," he commands softly.
I obey instantly, unable to deny him. His penetrating gaze scans over my features, softening when he sees the tears pooling in my eyes.
It's not really the scolding that hurts. I'm used to Stanley's tirades. It's the fact that he talked to me like that in front of Micah—made me feel smaller than ever. It shouldn't bother me so much, yet it does.