Chapter 3 #2
I walked out of the coffee shop, not quite sure why I’d said no.
Of course there was stranger danger and all.
But meeting him for lunch in a public place wouldn’t be any more dangerous than going out with a guy I met at a bar.
And I’d done that before. If I were being honest, something about the guy intimidated me—not unlike how I’d felt when Scott and I first got together.
He was just too good-looking and too successful and, well, I guess I felt gun shy about the type.
But that was just stupid. The man was seriously sexy, and my morning was going to be shitty enough. Why not go out to lunch and take a chance?
I halted in place on the street, causing the person behind me to bang into my back. “Sorry,” I said.
The guy made a face and walked around me. I rushed back to the coffee shop and opened the door. The CEO was standing and picked up his cup like he was about to leave.
“Hey, Mr. CEO, you’re not a serial killer, right?”
His brows jumped. “No. Not a serial killer.”
“Okay. Then I changed my mind. I’ll have lunch with you.”
“Well, now I’m glad I didn’t go on that rampage after all.”
I chuckled and dug into my purse for my phone. “Put your number in. I’ll text you my contact info.”
He typed into my cell, and I immediately sent him my contact information. When his phone buzzed in his hand, he looked down. “Ireland. Beautiful name. Fitting.”
I looked down at my own phone, but he hadn’t entered a name. “CEO? You’re not going to tell me your name.”
“Figured I’d keep you curious until lunch.”
“Hmmm… Okay. But I’m guessing you have some sort of uppity CEO name that gets passed down, along with a trust fund.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad I stopped in for coffee today.”
I smiled. “Me too. I’ll text you later about lunch.”
He nodded. “I’m looking forward to it, Ireland.”
I left the coffee shop and headed for the office in a much better mood than I’d started with. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all…
***
“Seriously? You couldn’t even have her wait until I’d cleaned out my desk?”
Our office space was a large, open square with cubicles in the middle and private, fishbowl-type glass offices lining the perimeter.
Security had escorted me to Bickman’s office like I was a prisoner, and now I could see Siren on the other side of the large space, moving boxes from her cubicle into my office.
Bickman yanked on his belt buckle and pulled his pants from beneath his belly to up and over it. “Don’t cause a scene, or I’ll pack up your crap for you.”
I scowled and began to tap my foot as I spoke. “I hope you at least gave her pay parity with a male of the same education and experience. Oh wait…that might be hard since a man with her qualifications works in the mail room still.”
He pushed a few buttons on his phone and looked across at my office as he spoke on speakerphone. “Ireland is here to clean out her office. You might want to give her some space and finish setting up your new office when she’s done.”
“Yes, Mr. Bickman.”
I rolled my eyes. Yes, Mr. Bickman.
The asshole waved his hand, dismissing me to go do what I needed to do. “Don’t take too long.”
Disgusted, I turned to walk out of his office and then stopped and backed up.
I hadn’t decided if I was going to go to HR about him firing me for retaliation.
I really didn’t have any proof—I couldn’t show that Bickman was the one who’d surfaced the video that was my reason for being fired.
And I knew threatening wouldn’t bother him at all.
Still, I needed to make him feel like shit, so I could at least feel better.
I stepped back into his office and quietly closed the door behind me, turning to say one last thing.
“You’ve been looking for a reason to fire me for years.
But it’s hard to justify when I’ve been a model employee, and our ratings have gone up consistently since I joined the show.
Finally you found a reason. I don’t know how you did it, but I know you were behind Human Resources getting ahold of that video.
Tell me, did you keep a copy for yourself?
I hope you did, because that’ll be the only piece of ass you’ll ever see from this office.
You certainly won’t be seeing any skin from the unqualified, barely-out-of-high-school girl you gave my job to.
You think that will make her like you, but she’s busy banging that new intern from advertising.
Oh, and remember Marge Wilson—the divorced, middle-aged temp you got drunk at the office Christmas party a few years back?
The one you think no one knows you went home with?
” I smiled and held up my pinky, waving it in the air.
“Well, we all know. Her nickname for you was Inchworm.”
I opened the door, took a deep breath, and headed over to clean out nine years of my life.
Literally three minutes later, Security was at my office door, and Bickman stood right behind them.
I put the last of my things from the top drawer into a box and glowered at him. “I’m not done yet.”
“You’ve had long enough. We have work to do around here.”
I mumbled under my breath and opened the second drawer to continue packing. “God, you’re such an asshole, Inchworm.”
Apparently, I wasn’t very good at mumbling. Bickman’s face turned red, and he pointed toward the exit. “Out! Get out.”
I yanked the second drawer off the track and unceremoniously dumped the contents into my box.
Then I did the same thing for two others and tossed the empty drawers onto the guest chairs on the other side of my desk.
I grabbed the framed pictures that sat on my desk and my degree off the wall and jammed it all into the box.
The two uniformed security guards he’d summoned looked completely uncomfortable.
I smiled at one sadly. “I’ll leave so you don’t have to deal with this jerk.”
The guards followed me to the elevator bank and got into the car with me. Bickman at least had enough common sense to take a different elevator. Though when we stepped out on the lobby level, he exited the car next to us.
I shook my head and kept walking. “I think the two security guards are enough. You don’t need to escort me, Bickman.”
He kept his distance but followed behind, nonetheless.
When I got to the main lobby area, there were a lot of people standing around.
So I decided to go out with a bang. I stopped and turned around to face Bickman.
Setting my heavy box on the floor in front of me, I pointed my finger at him and began to shout at the top of my lungs.
“This man uses his position to try to take advantage of women. He just fired me and gave my job to some young girl because he thinks she might spread her legs to say thank you. I guess he isn’t familiar with the #MeToo movement. ”
Bickman rushed forward and grabbed my elbow. I yanked it out of his hand.
“Don’t touch me.”
He took a few steps back when he realized people were watching and turned to scurry back to the elevator bank.
I needed to get the hell out of here before Security called the actual cops.
So I took a deep, cleansing breath, lifted my box back up, and held my chin high as I marched toward the glass doors.
Only…a man was walking directly in my path, heading right toward me with rapid, long strides.
My steps faltered as I took in his face. His very pissed-off face.
“Keep your damn hands to yourself,” he barked over my shoulder at Bickman.
Mr. CEO.
Great. Just great. The first guy I’d met in months that I was actually a little interested in, and he had to walk into my building just as I was making a scene and acting like a crazy person. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Then again, it went with the rest of my shitty day.
The stress of the last few days must have gotten to me, and I cracked.
I started laughing like a nutjob. At first it was a burst of laughter, but it turned into a snort, followed by a belly laugh that made me sound like I’d lost my mind.
I tried to cover my mouth and stop, but my words came out between hysterics.
“Of course I had to run into you here. I swear, I’m not really like this. It’s just been a really bad few days.”
CEO continued to stare over my shoulder. The look on his face was positively lethal—jaw tight, muscles flexing in his cheek, and his nostrils flaring like a bull’s. I turned to follow his line of sight and saw Bickman walking back toward us instead of away.
I sighed, knowing the scene wasn’t over yet, and shut my eyes. “I’ll understand why you don’t call me for lunch.”
The man’s eyes flickered to me, then Bickman, and then back to me once again. “Actually, I’d still love to take you to lunch. But I’m guessing you’re about to change your mind.
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