Rock Hard (Rock Kiss #2)(15)

“No, you don’t.” Hooking her arm through Charlotte’s, Molly dragged her to her feet and escorted her to the Saxon & Archer offices.

“Be brave,” Molly mouthed when Charlotte paused in the doorway, breathing choppy again and her heart thumping.

Charlotte had never been brave, but she couldn’t let Molly down, especially when her best friend was trying to aim for her own dreams. Be brave, she mouthed back, and forced herself to the elevator.

The walk down the corridor to her office was as bad as the day she’d thought she was about to be fired. Even when Brent Sinclair caught her in passing to say a heartfelt thank-you for her part in getting his idea in front of the boss, it didn’t stop the sick feeling in her gut.

Not only had she thrown a stapler at the boss’s head, she’d hung up on him after saying she was heading out for some afternoon delight.

Wanting to whimper, she walked through the doors to her office and took off her coat while placing her handbag aside. Then she cleared the messages on her phone and sat down to finish up work she’d left half-complete when she’d gone out for lunch. Taking it into T-Rex’s office, she placed it on his desk.

He looked up, a gleam in his eye. “Nice lunch?”

Feeling her cheeks turn tomato red, she managed to say, “Yes.”

The T-Rex didn’t bite, his attention back on his work. “I need you to set up a conference call at four with Sydney and Queenstown. Make sure it’s attended by the entire management team at both locations.”

Stunned at having been let off so easily, she said, “I’ll get started now.”

She’d almost made it to the door when Gabriel Bishop said, “Looks like Egor is a quick draw, Ms. Baird. There are pills for that, you know.”

Goddamn it, where was that jug of ice water?





7


THE INFAMOUS SLAVE CLAUSE





CHARLOTTE WAS SURPRISED TO find on Friday afternoon that she’d survived almost an entire week working for T-Rex. Earlier that day, he’d fired her, then in the next breath asked her to track down someone at a regional branch office. When that happened a second time, she ignored being fired and kept on with her job—though she might have glared daggers at his back a time or two.

As for the gourmet passion fruit and dark-chocolate French macarons that appeared on her desk after she’d worked through lunch, she bit into one with relish, imagining it was a particular carnivore’s head.

“Hey, Charlie.” Tuck came in right then. “Got the mail for you.”

Seeing him eye the macarons, she held out the box. He grinned and took a couple, bit into one. “Wow, these fancy cookies are pretty great.” A gulp and the sweet confection was gone. “Want to go on coffee break together?”

“Sorry, Tuck. Have to work.”

“It is so awesome that you got this job.” He beamed at her. “You’re like my favorite person in the entire building.”

Charlotte smiled at him as he headed out with the mail cart. “We’ll do lunch together next week, okay?”

Tuck gave her a thumbs-up, the doors closing behind him.

“Cheating on poor Ebenezer, Ms. Baird?”

Charlotte didn’t jump at the deep voice from the open office doorway—the tiny hairs on her arms had risen a second before he spoke. As an early warning system, it was infallible.

“Ernest,” she gritted out, pushing back in pure self-defense. “His name is Ernest.” As long as she didn’t look at the man who was driving her insane, she’d be fine. But as she couldn’t totally ignore her boss, she did finally angle her chair toward him.

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” he said, that dangerous gleam back in his eye.

“Did you need me to do something?” she asked, busying herself at her desk once more because staring at Gabriel Bishop for too long had a way of adversely affecting her nervous system.

“I need you to come in to work tomorrow.” A faint scrape of sound that told her he was rubbing his jaw. He always ended up with a five-o’clock shadow around four and kept an electric shaver in his desk drawer in case he needed to attend a late meeting or business dinner.

He hadn’t shaved last night when he’d actually left at a reasonable hour in order to make a personal dinner. His dates probably didn’t mind the stubble. Charlotte didn’t—and God, that was a singularly improper thought. Not just because he was her boss, but because he’d spent the day infuriating her in myriad ways.

“You also need to book us return tickets to Queenstown on Sunday,” he told her before she could respond to his first request. “I want you with me for the lunch meeting I’m having with a number of hotel managers there.”

“On Sunday?”

Another rub of his jaw, his voice grim as he said, “Saxon & Archer boutique contracts are coming up for renewal, and it’s going to be a hard sell to get them to give the company another shot after Hill’s idiocy.” That shark smile again. “Might as well ply them with champagne before I get them to sign on the dotted line.”

“I’ll organize it now. Is it overnight?”

“No. Back on Sunday night—latest flight you can get.”

“Okay.” Having somehow reined in her rioting thoughts, she got up and handed him a piece of mail she’d seen at the top of the pile Tuck had dropped off. “It’s marked personal.”