Page 27 of Playing with the Boss
THIRTEEN
Lisa
A midweek date night. What on earth was I thinking?
I’ll tell you what I was thinking. That the damn night wouldn’t have ended with an argument. Great clear decision making there, girl. And now? Now I have to spend the day with the better part of my focus on where the idiot is so I can avoid him.
You can do this. Not as though he’s going to be here forever now, is it? Then again, maybe I won’t either if he has any say in it.
He wouldn’t have done it. Surely. I arrived home, thankful Emma was out so that I could vent without judgment. Although, I’m pretty sure the neighbors probably think I’m a few screws loose after hearing me ranting to myself about what a narrow-minded jerk Mason is.
He’s loaded. Has to be, if he has ties to that damn hotel. And as much as I tried to reason otherwise with myself, I can’t help but come to the same conclusion every time: this is nothing more than a game to him.
I’m so damn naïve. Why would he ever have had a particular interest in me when it came to saving jobs? If they merge our arm of the company, there’s a list a mile long of people who Leyton would want to assimilate into other roles before they got to me. I might be the one who brings in the contracts, but if there is no print sector anymore, then what use am I? Really?
Nope. Mason merely laid eyes on me I that boardroom and realized what an easy target I’d be when he no doubt saw my shock at the news.
“Lisa!”
I stall on my way past Alf’s door; jacket slung over one arm and purse in hand. “Morning.”
He pushes from his worn leather chair, bustling his portly frame around his desk. “I’m glad I caught you.”
Yeah. Because he so would have had no idea where I would be if he hadn’t. Not as though I’d be in my office, or anything. Oh, the safety of my office. Damn, that sounds good.
“I have to say I was rather surprised by your announcement.” He clasps meaty hands before him, looking every bit the sad old man he is.
“My announcement?” What on earth is he—oh shit. My announcement.
He wouldn’t have.
“I haven’t caught Mason yet this morning to find out what triggered your resignation. Perhaps I could hear it from the horse’s mouth?”
He did.
That goddamn—
“I’d love to give you the backstory,” I say sweetly, “but I have a client call first thing this morning, so….” I make a show of checking the time.
“Of course.” Alf takes a step back. “We’ll catch up after.”
“Perfect.”
I resume my path down the hallway, the impact my heels make with the carpet decidedly firmer now given the way my blood boils beneath my skin. How dare he? How dare that self-centered, egotistical, spoilt—
“Morning, Lisa.”
“Ugh!” My purse and coat hit the floor of my office in the most unladylike fashion.
I’ve had it. I’ve had enough of these games, and now I’ve gone full-blown tantrum like a toddler who wants out of the sandpit because the other kid isn’t being fair.
“It was an accident,” Mason offers, rising from where he’d been leaned against the front of my desk.
“Was it?” The door slams into its enclosure behind me, rattling the wall with the force of my backhand. “Because from what I remember, you very purposefully wrote that message.”
“I never meant to send it,” he explains. “It was a ruse, a desperate attempt to get you to stay.”
“You thought you could make me stay by pissing me off even more?” I slam my arms across myself, eyes wide.