Page 89 of Illicit Education
That fell as soon as she looked up at me.
Red nose.
Puffy eyes.
She wasn’t sick; she’d been crying.
My steps faltered and I changed course, heading for her desk.She might be a bitch, but I’m not. “Are you alright?”
Her eyes narrowed as she gave me a once over, lips pulling into a bitter pucker. “You look different.”
And she’s back, folks. Scary Stella has returned to the building.
“Okay, well, I believe he’s waiting for me, so…” I shrugged and offered her another smile she clearly didn’t deserve.
“I think you’re right.” She smiled sweetly.
“Have a great day.”
She made a disgusted sound in her throat.
God, she was theworst. “Have the day you deserve,” I mumbled under my breath as I strode down the hallway toward Reed’s office.
My belly was a fluttering mess of drunken butterflies as I passed the conference room and approached the corner office. His voice carried out to me through his open door, deep and rumbly and–
I paused before entering.
–laced with anger. Whoever was on the other end of that phone call was probably regretting whatever they’d done to get on the bad side of Cabot Reed.
Chewing on my bottom lip, I hesitated only a moment before deciding that seeing me might cheer him up. So I smiled brightly and walked into his office.
Instantly regretting it.
His gaze landed on me and his eyes tightened.
A man I didn’t recognize sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs facing Reed’s desk, his leg crossed with the ankle resting on the opposite knee. In the time it took me to register that the man’s pale blue socks matched his pocket square perfectly, I realized that Stella had completely screwed me over.
I’d interrupted a meeting. A very intense one, judging by the look in Reed’s eyes and the way he’d sounded just moments ago.
She hadn’t even tried to stop me. What a fuckinggemshe was.
“Can you tell time, Ms. Blake?”
I swallowed hard and met Reed’s gaze.What?
His lips tightened into a fierce line. That muscle in his jaw ticked, but now it was joined by a scary vein in his forehead.
I swallowed hard, looking at the other man for help, which was futile; he picked at a piece of lint on his sock as if I wasn’t even standing here.
“Ms. Blake.” The way Reed growled the words made my head snap toward him.
“Sir?”
His nostrils flared. “What time is it, Ms. Blake?”
“Um…” My gaze flicked from the floor to the window, then I remembered the clock on the bookshelf and swiftly scanned the face of it. “It’s just after nine, sir.”
“So.” He looked at his associate and then back at me. “I have not confused the time of day. My meeting has not run past schedule.” He paused, his gaze burning into me. “It is not nine-thirty.”