Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
SPENCER
M y heart pounded in my chest. My anger had come out of nowhere. Technically, that wasn’t true. There was plenty of anger stewing low in my gut for months. It was like a volcano. There had been this dark and simmering feeling slowly building. I occasionally spewed out fiery sparks, but for the most part, my anger stayed contained, waiting for the perfect moment to erupt. The longer it stewed, the more dangerous and destructive it became. It felt like it was eating me alive inside.
My eye twitched and I could feel the vein bulging at the side of my neck. She stared at me, slowly getting to her feet like she wasn’t sure what I was about to do. Would I keep rumbling or would I erupt?
The sight of her in all her glory cut through my hot anger like a cool breeze. She looked heart-achingly pretty today. There was a softness to her that made me want to wrap my arms around her. The sweater hugged her luscious curves just like I wanted to. The heeled boots she was wearing gave her additional height while drawing my attention to her shapely legs.
The ideas running through my head were very inappropriate but there they were in living color and they burned as hot as my anger.
The only imperfection on her angel face was the look of fear. Her eyes were wide and filled with shock. Her lips were slightly parted, as if she was about to speak but thought better of it. There was also a sense of determination in her gaze, as if she was refusing to back down despite me storming in here with a burr in my butt.
A voice in my head screamed at me to back off. She wasn’t the source of my problems. She wasn’t the one that had been annoying the fuck out of me the last year. But she was the one standing in front of me.
“You think this is bullying?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous. “I’m trying to keep this company from falling apart while you’re daydreaming out the window.”
“I’m not daydreaming,” she shot back. “I skipped lunch to work. I’m trying to find solutions to the problems you’re creating with your shitty attitude.”
I took a step closer. Tension crackled between us. “My attitude? You think I’m the problem here?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You’re pushing everyone away. You’re making it impossible to work here. You’re a fucking bear!”
“Maybe you’re not used to working with the big boys,” I retorted.
“Maybe you’re right,” she said defiantly. “But if this is what it’s like, I’m not interested.”
“If you want to leave, fine. Leave. But don’t come back wondering what could have been because you never gave it a real shot.”
My words were cold, detached. Her expression stung more than I wanted to admit. Her eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed in frustration and anger. The fire in her gaze never faltered, though, despite the hurt that clearly showed in her face. Her jaw was set, her lips pressed into a thin line. It was a mix of determination and pain that I couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard I tried. I had done that.
Then her gaze softened. I saw a hint of sympathy, which just pissed me off all over again. Better that she screamed at me than felt pity.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I hissed.
“What happened to you, Spencer?” she asked softly. “The kid I remember would never treat someone like this. And I haven’t even done anything wrong. You’re fighting shadows that only you see.”
That hit harder than I’d expected. I felt a pang of guilt, but the sadness in her voice infuriated me. “You never knew me. Who are you to pretend that you know me now?”
Her eyes widened and then narrowed into slits of anger. Gone was the fear or sadness. She looked like she might just breathe fire out her nose with smoke coming out her ears. A smart man would shut his stupid mouth and step away. But I was too keyed up. I wanted to scream and yell and raise hell. I needed a pressure release, or I was going to blow my top.
“Wow.” She shook her head. “You know what? Forget it. I’m done. Tell Joshua to call me if he wants to work with someone less emotional. And you’re welcome, by the way. I’m the one who made that a seven-figure deal, assuming you can keep him as a client. So you’re welcome. No one wants to pay for your tired-ass ideas and corporate nonsense. You and that whole team of overpaid people are all stuck in a boring little box and you’re so damn afraid to step outside of it. You scorn the unfamiliar. You lack vision and creativity. I can’t work like this. Your shitty attitude is stifling my creativity. My spirit feels crushed. I’m useless like this. I cannot take this shit anymore.”
She turned away and started packing her things into a box. I could hardly believe what was happening. I didn’t want her to quit, but I couldn’t back down either. As she threw more items into the box, I reached in and started taking them back out. She slapped my hands and put a paperweight back in the box. I took it out.
“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped.
“You’re not leaving,” I said, my voice rising. “You don’t get to just walk away.”
She scoffed. “I can do whatever the hell I want.”
I grabbed her laptop, slamming it shut hard enough to break it, but I didn’t care. I held it close while glaring at her. She stared at me for several seconds. With frustration and anger in her movements, she grabbed more objects from around the office and threw them into the box. Papers flew everywhere, pens rolled across the desk, and folders were crumpled as she hastily gathered everything she could. I didn’t think she even knew what she was stuffing in there. Her hands moved quickly, almost frantically, as she tried to pack up her belongings and maybe a few things that technically belonged to the company, but I wasn’t about to point that out.
The box overflowed with items, and she struggled to fit everything inside. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tensed as she shot me another dirty look. Her lips curled back like she was about to start gnashing her teeth. The once neat and organized office now looked chaotic and disheveled.
“I’ll have movers pick up the rest of my things,” she said.
“You’re not leaving,” I said firmly.
“Watch me.” She reached for the laptop I was still holding hostage. I turned my body to keep it out of her hands.
“You’re so childish,” she snapped.
“You’re not leaving,” I insisted, turning the other way when she came around the desk and tried to grab the laptop once again.
We got into a weird keep-away situation with me turning left and right and her trying to grab it. It was ridiculous. I was almost a foot taller than her and had a serious reach advantage. Every time she lunged forward, I pulled the laptop away just out of her grasp. It was a pathetic game with high stakes. It might have even been amusing under different circumstances.
“Spencer!” she barked, stopping abruptly. Her eyes were on fire as she glared at me from across the desk. “Hand me my laptop and let me leave!”
“No.”
“I have every right to walk out that door!” Her voice was shaking with fury now. “You can’t keep me here!”
I stood my ground, clutching her laptop tighter to my chest and staring at her.
“Do you intend to chain me to the desk?” she growled. “Lock me in my office? You do realize I will walk out that door and I will not come back. I’m so done with you!”
Her breath hitched as I glared hard at her, my grip on the laptop tightening until my knuckles turned white. She tried to mask it, but I saw the flicker of hurt that passed through her eyes. It felt like a swift punch to the gut. I hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but we were at a stalemate, and neither was willing to deviate from our course.
My face contorted in a grimace. “Run away, Marlow. Run back to your safe little job writing books. You don’t have the guts to really be in this game.”
She yanked her laptop from my hands and shoved it in the box. I realized in that moment this was real. She was going to walk out. She was going to walk away from me. I fought so hard to get her into the office and now I was about to lose her.
I knew if she walked out that door, I was losing more than just a damn good marketing manager. This situation put my friendship with Rhett and his parents in jeopardy as well. They would never forgive me for hurting their daughter or whatever this was that was happening between us. I would never be invited to stay the night at the family’s house. Jodie wasn’t going to make me pancakes or fresh blueberry muffins. Klaus would lose all respect for me and that was something I truly valued. Mostly, I didn’t want her to disappear from my life. I couldn’t let things end this way.
She shook her head and picked up the box, moving toward the door. Instinct urged me to reach out. I grabbed her arm and spun her around to face me. She looked stunned. Her eyes dropped to where my hand was wrapped around her arm and then back up to meet my gaze. The fire I saw flashing through her eyes turned me on. She wasn’t even a little bit afraid.
“We’re not done here,” I said, our faces inches apart.
“Oh, we are so done,” she hissed, trying to pull away.
Before I knew what I was doing, I crushed my lips against hers. It was desperate, angry, and full of all the things we hadn’t said. She resisted for a moment. “Don’t you kiss me,” she snapped.
“Shut up,” I growled against her lips and kissed her again.
“Make me,” she challenged, her voice breathless even as she kissed me back.
We stumbled backward, the box between us in my way. I managed to toss it aside without breaking the hold I had on her. She replied to my kisses with equal intensity, matching my fervor. Our anger dissolved into passion. My hands roamed her body, holding her closer as if she might disappear if I didn’t.
A small part of me realized that this was definitely crossing a line we could never uncross, but the larger part was overcome by the intoxicating taste of Marlow. The sweet scent of her perfume, the feel of her curves in my hands. I couldn’t let go of her now.
“Spencer,” she gasped against my mouth, trying to pull away.
I extended one of my long legs and slammed the door shut. Everyone was at lunch. The office was eerily quiet. I reached for her blouse and jerked it open, sending buttons flying like little missiles. She gasped and immediately reached for my head. Her hands tangled in my hair. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was a release of all the built-up tension and frustration between us.
“Spencer,” she whispered, her voice softer now, almost pleading.
I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I kissed her harder, trying to convey everything I felt. My hands roamed over her body, feeling the heat of her skin, the rapid beat of her heart. She clung to me, her nails digging into my back, and for a moment, nothing else mattered.