Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1)(50)

I stopped mid-rummage and slowly stood, glowering at Leslie over the fridge door.

Her answering grin told me that my eyes weren’t actually shooting out death rays.

“How cute is that?” She held up the half-eaten cup of yogurt. My half-eaten cup of yogurt.

“People are naming the food in the break room. I just can’t even. It’s totes adorbs.” She went back to wrapping her crazy-huge lips around the spoon that was feeding her my f*cking yogurt.

It had to be severely unhealthy to want to kill two of your coworkers in the same day.

I took a deep breath, counting to ten in my head.

One-Don’t-Kill-Leslie

Two-Don’t-Kill-Leslie

Three-Don’t-Kill-Leslie…

By the time I reached ten, my hands felt less stabby.

“Hey, Leslie?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Uh-huh?” she responded, mouth full of yogurt.

“So, that turkey sandwich named Gary was actually just Gary’s turkey sandwich. He wrote his name on it so no one else would eat it.”

She cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy. “But what about the yogurt named Georgia?”

I fought the urge to shout, inhaling and exhaling another cleansing breath. “The yogurt wasn’t named Georgia. I wrote my name on that yogurt because I brought it in. It’s my yogurt and I planned on eating it today.”

She stared back at me, her pea-sized brain visibly processing my words.

The wheels were turning; slowly but surely, they were turning.

“Ohhh, my bad.” She held out the half-eaten yogurt container. “Here, you can have the rest of it. I’m already so full from eating that turkey sandwich and piece of cherry cheesecake.”

Wait a minute…

Piece of cherry cheesecake?

I glared the f*ck out of the food-snatching idiot for a good minute before turning for the door.

“So, like, I’m just going to eat the rest of it, okay, Georgia?” was the last thing I heard as I stormed out of the break room and straight for Kline’s office. Since he had hired her, I figured it would be a nice gesture to let him know housekeeping was going to need to branch out into crime scene remediation.

His door bounced off the wall with a bang. Kline raised an eyebrow, his expression confused yet curious behind the large mahogany desk. “Everything okay?”

“Nope.” The door slammed shut, courtesy of my stiletto-adorned foot. “Everything is not f*cking okay.”

I strode around his desk and planted my ass on the edge, forcing him to push his chair back to allow room for me and all of my bristling glory.

“I need housekeeping’s number. They’re going to need to bring a body bag tonight. Figured it’d be nice to give them a heads-up.”

“A body bag?”

I nodded. “For Leslie.”

He crinkled his forehead, but I guess apprehension did that to a person. “Come again?”

“She’s fine,” I reassured. “Well, right now. She won’t be fine later.”

He tilted his head. “What’s happening later?”

“I’m going to kill her.”

“Any particular reason you’re plotting her murder?”

“She’s eating everyone’s food, including mine! She ate my cheesecake and my goddamn yogurt!” I gestured wildly, flinging my hands into the air. “Do you know why she’s doing this?”

Kline shook his head. The hint of a smile kissed the corners of his lips.

I pointed my finger at him. “Don’t even think about smiling right now.”

He held up both hands. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m taking this very seriously.” He forced his mouth to the side, trying to hide another smirk, and his voice turned almost offensively diplomatic. “Why is Leslie eating everyone’s food?”

“She thought people were being totes adorbs and naming the food.”

Blue eyes lit up with amusement. “Leslie didn’t realize the names on food meant it belonged to someone?”

“Today, she enjoyed a turkey sandwich named Gary. And a yogurt and piece of motherf*cking cheesecake named Georgia. She thought it was like, the cutest thing ever how her coworkers were naming food. She’s too dumb to live. Literally.”

I saw the second he couldn’t hold back laughter. A grin had cracked the secret code and covered his entire face—his eyes, lips, and cheeks were all lit up with hilarity.

Like a boiling pot, it worked its way up his throat and spilled right over, coating me with its vibration. If I hadn’t been so pissed, I might have acknowledged its ability to turn me on.

“This isn’t funny! Your intern is a dumbass! All she does is take selfies and eat my food! Why haven’t you fired her?”

“Baby,” he cooed condescendingly. “She’s just an intern. How picky can I be? She’s not costing the company anything.”

“Not costing anything!” I very nearly shrieked. “She just cost me my goddamn cheesecake!”

Kline shook his head with a smile and started to turn his leather chair in the other direction, away from my glaring eyes, but I was too quick, damn near jumping on top of him. “Don’t even think about it!”

His strong hands gripped my hips and finished the job.