15 #2
Canary Wharf isn’t packed full of great historical buildings like London’s centre, but the peninsula of chrome-and-glass skyscrapers is our version of New York or Hong Kong.
I don’t know how they get any work done on the Lexington top floors. As it houses the most senior members of the company, I suppose they have time to admire the view while the underlings work below.
There’s a rooftop garden bar on the top floor and a lush gym on the bottom with a spa. An actual spa with wet rooms.
Wet rooms would never work at the Bradshaw Brown office. The fear of running into the two partner cretins would be too great.
In the Lexington office, we get ‘mindfulness day’ every Wednesday when massage therapists offer back and head rubs and there’s free yoga in the gym.
Thursdays are designated social days for colleagues with free drinks in the rooftop bar. It’s an illusion of being in a holiday resort, so you forget that you’re stressed as fuck with draining deadlines.
I connect my laptop with the large monitor and then spin my chair around to face Nisha.
“I can’t believe that for a fleeting second, I considered saying yes to his dinner,” I whisper.
“He was all charm and banter at the wedding, and I thought maybe he’s not that bad.
” What happened with my dad was a long time ago.
People change, yada yada . “But it’s obvious now.
The guy’s a fucking psycho. Kicking someone out of a meeting for being late once? Seriously?”
Nisha leans in. “Look, keep your head down and work your ass off. It’ll be forgotten soon.”
I’m not finished. “I’ve never been kicked out of anything in my life,” I huff. “He humiliated me. Who does that? It’s like primary school; he put me in the naughty corner. Do you think this is because I didn’t fall at his feet at the wedding when he asked me to go for dinner?”
She shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Ugh. I wanna grab his stupid nipple ring and pull it until he screams.”
“Bonnie,” Nisha warns, giving me a stern look. “Pipe down now. We can talk about it after work. Keep your emotions under control.”
I nod, sighing. Everyone is already watching me after the showdown this morning, so I’m not helping myself.
I know what I need to do. Just say yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir, whatever the hell he wants.
Knight, King, Billy big bollocks, whatever he wants you to call him, do it with a big smile.
“How was the rest of the meeting?” I ask.
“Tense. No one dared to blink. I literally did not take my eyeballs off the man for a second.” She laughs quietly. “I don’t know how he didn’t balk from the attention.”
I roll my eyes. “He thrives on power. All eyes have to be on him.”
I get a flashback of how Jack looked at me when we were dancing, his brown eyes glazing with need. The possessiveness of his hands gripping my waist. How his hard body felt under my fingers.
I shake my head, shattering the image.
“Max is back.”
I follow Nisha’s line of sight to where Max is storming down the aisle with a grim look on his face.
Oh, fuck.
“Bonnie,” he says in a low voice as he leans over my desk. “I tried to talk to Jack, but he wasn’t having any of it. You’re walking a tightrope here. He’s got a short fuse and you’ve managed to get yourself in his bad boo—.”
“I know,” I cut in before Max can decide something that won’t be in my favour. I search his face. “It won’t happen again. It was a temporary moment of insanity. I’m never late, Max, you know that.”
He blows out a hard breath. “It wasn’t only about being late. He’s not happy with your overall attitude. If Jack requests it, you’re off the project, I’ll have no choice.”
My stomach drops. “Has he?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. But I’ve had to inform the partners about the unfortunate incident. In case they heard it elsewhere.”
My eyes widen. He makes it sound like I rolled up a joint in the middle of the meeting and smoked it. All I did was arrive a few minutes late and avert my eyeballs at the wrong time.
Bradshaw will one hundred percent pull me from the project.
“Please, Max. What can I do to redeem this? You at least owe me that, considering you were the cause of the incident .”
He glares at me. “Leave your personal issues at the door when you enter this building.”
“I can’t leave you behind at the door, can I?” I let out an annoyed huff.
His eyes narrow. “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll do my best to keep you on this project.”
“Thank you.”
I watch him walk away. Why is it that my career is in the hands of two arrogant men? Four, counting Bradshaw and Brown.
“Bonnie, look who’s coming,” Nisha says through gritted teeth beside me. “Nine o’clock.”
I don’t need to look up to feel his presence. The vibe in the office shifts as if everyone has been given an adrenaline shot at the same time.
My gaze travels upwards to see Jack’s dominant frame stalk down the aisle.
He walks more like a fighter than a CEO with that shoulder swag. He radiates too much masculine energy for an office, especially in those blue jeans and white T-shirt, making him the least formally dressed person here.
A walk that says get the fuck out of my way.
I swallow hard and bury the primal cavewoman instinct to jump up and bring the beast to his knees.
There are more important things at stake here. I need to make everything right.
He nods to some of the team as he passes, with the lucky ones getting the infamous Jack Knight grin.
I swallow the big lump in my throat and try to catch his eye. “Mr. Knight,” I call after him.
He hears me. He looks me right in the eyes. Something flares in them for a fleeting second, maybe regret, but it’s gone so quickly it might be wishful thinking on my behalf.
His square jaw flexes and he keeps on walking.
I recoil in horror and look at Nisha, who seems equally shocked.
She shakes her head as he disappears into an office at the end of the aisle. “Just leave it.”
I feel every eyeball in a ten-metre radius boring into me. When I turn, they all divert their gazes like I’m Medusa about to turn them into stone.
I resist the urge to flip him off. Behind his back, obviously.
It’s a lose-lose situation. The worst-case scenario is I’m thrown off the project. The best-case scenario is I get to stay on but I have to watch him swagger up and down past me every day, the two of us hating each other.
The only bittersweet win for me is that the humiliation of getting kicked out of a major meeting is that it will distract me until quitting time from thinking about Max’s love life.
“Wine or yoga, which one will help more?” Nisha asks in a low voice. “Or both?”
“I can’t. I have to run fifteen miles after work. Marathon training.”
“Jesus. I haven’t run fifteen miles this whole year. Each to their own. Endorphins are supposed to make you happy,” she adds hopefully.
My eyes travel to the glass boardroom where Jack is seated, talking to about twenty people.
Abruptly he swivels in his chair and his gaze collides with mine. His lips move but his focus is solely on me.
Wincing, I look away first.
Believe me, fifteen miles worth of endorphins won’t even make a dent after today.