Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Diana
My heart nearly stops.
I’m in the right here. Rod is in the wrong. He’s snooping on my computer.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask politely, though I really want to punch his smug hook nose.
“I’m a part owner of this company,” Rod says, “which means I own this computer, Diana, and everything on it.”
I cross my arms. “You condone spying on your employees?”
My heart is beating so fast. I can’t believe I’m keeping my voice steady. But the thought of my father gives me strength. I’m so glad I just talked to him. Otherwise, I don’t know how I’d be reacting right now.
“Not spying,” he says. “Looking at what is legally my property.”
“And what have you found?”
He draws in a breath, his jaw rigid. “I think you already know that.”
“What if I don’t?”
He turns my screen to face me, and of course, I already know what’s on the screen. My draft email to the client about the mountaintop project.
“So I’ll ask you again,” he says. “Care to explain this?”
“Why should I explain a draft email? It wasn’t sent.”
“But you were thinking about sending it.”
“Do you know that? Are you inside my brain?”
“Why else would you have written it?”
“As a catharsis. I was upset.”
“It’s addressed to the client.”
“Yes, but it was never sent.”
He takes a deep breath, interlocking his fingers. “It’s a shame, Diana. Despite your background, I truly thought you’d be a team player here.”
“I am a team play—” I tilt my head. “What do you mean despite my background ? ”
He smirks. “It’s common knowledge that the Steels didn’t come into their fortune by sheer luck or sheer business acumen.”
I curl my hands into fists. “Say what you want about me, Rod, but do not attack my family. You don’t know them.”
“Don’t know them? Everyone knows they own the entire Western Slope.”
“They own their property. And they own interest in a lot of outside ventures. That doesn’t mean their gains were made through nefarious means.”
He shakes his head and lets out a low chuckle.
And I really want to punch him this time. Right on that weak jawline.
“Everybody knows about your grandfather, Diana. About his so-called death, twice over. How he got what he wanted through physical force.”
I never knew my grandfather. He died before I was born. But from what I understand, Rod is correct. Bradford Steel faked his death not once but twice. He had his reasons—and I’m sure they made sense to him.
From what I understand, he did everything to protect his mentally ill wife—my grandmother.
And yes, he did it at a cost to his children. Including my father.
Especially my father.
But our business is above board now. My father and uncles have made sure that’s the case.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say. “How dare you defame my family?”
“And how dare you go behind my back and write to one of my clients?”
I hold up a hand. “First of all, the client isn’t yours. The client is the firm’s.”
“Potato po-tah-to,” he says.
“And second, if you’ll notice—again—the email was not sent.”
“But you wrote it on office time.”
“I was here until seven p.m. last night. You owe me some time.”
I regret those words immediately. I know what’s expected of entry-level architects here. Fifty to sixty hours a week at least. Staying on my first day until seven p.m. means nothing to him.
He narrows his eyes. “So you stayed until the early evening. Do you think that impresses me?”
“You were gone by the time I left.”
He shakes his head, chuckling again. “I’m afraid I don’t answer to you, Diana. You answer to me .”
He’s right, of course. And again I’d like to pummel him. If my father and brothers were here, he’d already be a puddle on the ground.
“The email wasn’t sent, Rod. And you had no business snooping on my computer.”
“I have every business. I periodically look through the files of my employees.”
“Do they know that?”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Some do. Some don’t.”
“Maybe they’d like to know. Does Marcus know?”
“I suggest you leave Marcus out of this.” His gaze darkens. “He would suffer greatly if he lost this job.”
I count to ten silently. Rod is right. Marcus needs this position, but I don’t.
My father told me to make my own decision, to go with my conscience.
My conscience told me to email the client. But it also told me that I didn’t want to make life more difficult for my colleagues. I don’t know Marcus well, but I understand that he needs his job.
“I wasn’t going to send the email,” I say truthfully. “I gave it some thought, and I decided the fallout wasn’t worth it.”
He furrows his brow. “And I’m supposed to believe you why, exactly?”
“I can’t make you believe me. You can’t get inside my head any more than I can get inside yours. All I can tell you is that I went downstairs and called my father.”
“So Daddy told you what to do.”
“For your information, he didn’t tell me what to do. He told me I was mature enough to make my own decision on this matter, and though I think the client has the right to know, I decided not to send the email because I didn’t want to put other people’s lives in jeopardy for something that may never be an issue.”
“I see.” He flattens his lips into a line.
He’s a snake. I can almost see scales growing on that pathetic jawline. I can’t believe I thought he was good-looking at one time.
Now he looks like a reptile.
Except that’s not being fair to reptiles.
“I’m afraid your services are no longer needed at this firm, Diana.”
“So you’re firing me,” I say. “For writing an email that I didn’t send. You wouldn’t have even known about it if you hadn’t been snooping.”
He stands slowly. “That’s exactly why I’m looking. Do you think you’re the first young architect who’s come in here with a moral high ground? Who thinks business is run on feelings instead of money? You’re wrong.”
I look into his eyes for a moment. I want him to look into the eyes of the woman he’s firing on her second day for the crime of drafting a damned email.
And then I lunge for the computer.
Rod jumps to his feet, blocking my path. “What the hell are you doing?”
“If I’m going to get fired for an email,” I say, staring him down again, “I may as well actually send it.”
“The hell you will.” Rod picks up the phone in my cubicle. “Security, please escort Ms. Steel out of the building.”
They’ll be here in a few minutes.
If Rod wants me to play the part of the demure, broken woman, I’ll give it to him.
I hunch my shoulders in, wipe fake tears from my eyes. “Please, Rod. I’ve worked so hard for this job. I’d do anything to stay here with you.”
Rod narrows his eyes. “Anything?”
God. I hate men sometimes. But I have a mission.
I straighten my spine and pout my lips. I even arch my back a bit to stick my boobs out. “What’ll it take, Mr. Reynolds ? ”
He takes a step toward me. “I think you know what it would take, Ms. Steel .”
I stick my hand out, try not to vomit as I rub his arm up and down. “Perhaps we can discuss my career somewhere a bit more…private?”
I can tell by the small tent forming in Rod’s pants that my efforts are working.
He leans into my ear, growling lecherously. “There’s a supply closet by the break room.”
Now’s my chance.
I wrap my arm around his back and then knee him right in the balls. He yells out in pain and doubles over.
“You fucking bitch ,” he chokes out.
I walk over him to my computer, and with a few clicks, the email is sent. I turn to the writhing piece of shit on the floor in front of me. “Thank you so much for the opportunity. See you around, Rod.”
He stands up, and the look on his face is pure anger. “You spoiled little cunt.”
I swallow as it hits me.
Not the word he used. I was expecting that.
I acted in haste, and I wasn’t thinking. I’m glad the client will know about the issue, but I wasn’t thinking about Marcus or anyone else.
I don’t care how this affects Rod or Mr. Lund or Mr. Lopez.
But Marcus and my other junior colleagues on this project?
Oh my God…
What have I done?
“You’ll never work in architecture again,” Rod says. “You can expect a call from our attorneys.”
“Yeah? And you can expect a call from mine.”
He rolls his eyes. “Your mother and your brother? Small-town attorneys?”
He thinks I’m a spoiled little brat who has money shooting out her ass? Fine. I’ll make it work for me. “Yeah, small-town attorneys with the Steel fortune behind them. Good luck with all that.”
My heart is thundering. My purse is still around my shoulder, and I walk out, trying to maintain an air of calm as I pass reception and leave the office. The rest of the office doesn’t seem to have heard my altercation with Rod. Or maybe they did. Maybe he’s such a fucking creep that they all looked the other way.
Once the elevator doors open and I’m inside, even though I know they’re monitored, I slide down to the floor, put my head in my hands.
I did the right thing. The thing I had chosen not to do after the talk with my father.
There’s no reason to feel guilty.
I don’t need the job. Even if they blacklist me.
I’ll start my own architecture firm. One built on Steel values.
I’ll leave the state of Colorado if I have to.
But I won’t let the snakes here beat me.
The elevator dings, and the doors open on the first floor.
I’m still sitting on the floor and the two people waiting for the elevator eye me suspiciously.
My cheeks are hot, probably as red as a candy apple, but I don’t give a shit. I silently get to my feet and walk out, my head held high.
I may have just doomed my career, but at least I’ll never go hungry.
And I’ll make sure that if Marcus needs anything, an anonymous donation will be sent to his family.
As for Rod and Lund and Lopez?
They can all kiss my ass.