Page 83 of Hate to Love You
“Your reports,” he says, laying the stack of papers on the desk. “I took the liberty of stopping by Heather’s desk on the way up.”
“Thank God, at least someone around here has their head screwed on straight,” Roman sneers, glaring up at Noah. “Well? What are you waiting for? Make yourself useful! Go round up the rest of the asshole brigade and make sure they’re in the conference room by nine.”
Noah says nothing, before high-tailing it out of Roman’s office and heading toward the group of men gathering near the conference area.
Standing, I walk over to Roman’s office, intending to close the door so that they can discuss whatever he’s fuming about without disrupting my peace.
With the mood he’s in, I don’t want to be anywhere near it.
And after all, today’s my last day anyway. I don’t need to talk business or even be involved.
But just as my hand touches the cool metal handle, Roman’s eyes snap to mine.
“Abigail,” he suddenly barks at me. “What are you doing?”
“Um…” I shrug, feeling my face heat. “Giving you privacy… and secretary-ing? I’m answering your phones, mail, and emails. Besides that, I really don’t know how to answer that question, Roman.”
“Get in here.”
Taking a deep breath, I hesitate at the threshold, I should have given him my notice earlier and just left. I really don’t have time or the patience for whatever fucking corporate bullshit this is.
However, my hesitation is clearly visible, as he stands, prowling toward me with an icy scowl. And even though I stopped giving a fuck what anyone thought of me years ago, I can’t help but feel my body begin to tremble under the weight of his silent, intense stare.
Stopping directly in front of me, his eyes widen slightly, before narrowing again.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he whispers, his voice low as his eyes canvas my body slowly.
“Do you not like it?” I ask, hating how breathless I sound. “You all seem to wear a lot of black, so I went with black.”
“Your skirt,” he swallows, before clearing his throat. “Is too fucking short. Again.”
“Well,” I say, crossing one arm behind my back. “It’s longer than the one I wore yesterday. At least I think so.”
Shaking his head, he walks back to his desk silently, sitting back down in his chair. He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath before resting his elbows on the desk, grabbing his stress ball and squeezing it, clenching his hand into a fist.
God, I really shouldn’t enjoy teasing him this much, but I’m going to miss this.
“Regardless,” he finally breathes. “I need to have a briefing with my team, and I need you to notate this meeting.”
“No problem, let me just grab my—”
But before I can walk out the door, Roman is around the desk and slams it closed in front of me, making me jump.
His masculine scent fills my nostrils as he leans in close.
“...And I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that anything and everything you might hear in that meeting, is strictly confidential,” he says, the gravel in his voice making me listen harder. “And that your NDA prohibits you from discussing anything you may hear or see in that meeting…with anyone.”
I want to say something, but unfortunately, I can’t think of anything to retort, so I just nod once in response, looking up into the beautifully terrifying blue eyes of Roman Antonov.
“And also, on a personal level,” he growls lethally. “Should I find out that you have broken that silence, I promise I will bury you.”
“Ex…excuse me?” I snort sarcastically. “You’re going to bury me? Where?”
Roman says nothing, only glaring at me icily.
“Get your ass to the conference room, Abigail,” he hisses. “Now.”
…And just like that I’m engulfed in the chaos that is Roman Antonov yet again.