Page 98 of Hate to Love You
Roman glides onto the floor like a phantom, the air around him crackling as I bend down to grab the stapler.
“For fucks sake…” I hear him grumble. “Abigail! How many fucking times do I have to tell you that your skirt is to fucking short! I can see your cunt from here!”
I immediately straighten.
Who the fuck does he think he is?
I turn my head slightly to glance at him over my shoulder, seeing his massive frame practically vibrating.
“Is my skirt distracting you again, Sir?” I say, raising an eyebrow at him.
Roman glares at me, his eyes locked on my ass. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement behind him, and that’s when I happen to catch Oleg standing just off to the side, biting his lip.
Watch him love this.
Raising it in the air, I gingerly hold the stapler between two fingers, before deliberately letting it fall.
“Oops, my bad, I’m so clumsy sometimes!” I smirk, covering my mouth with my hand playfully. “But I do have a lot of paperwork to do today, Boss.”
I turn, bending down to pick it up slowly, as I hear him growl behind me.
“Oleg! Office. Now.”
“Yes Boss.” He squeaks, darting around him into Roman’s office and slamming the door closed.
Roman steps toward me, his eyes narrowed.
“You are asking for trouble, Foxy. Do not test me.”
“Or what? You’ll fire me?” I laugh, “Fat chance of that really. Your schedule has never been more organized, and I’m pretty sure all your Department Heads like me better than you.”
His jaw flexes.
“You know as well as I do, Roman, that you’d never get any work done around here without me,” I say, my voice smooth and seductive.
He growls in response, clenching his fist as he turns, muttering to himself about skirts and women as he walks toward his office.
However, just as he opens the door, he turns to me once again.
“I didn’t have time to get my coffee. Go to Roast and fetch me one.” He says, walking toward me again, “Oh, and while you’re at it, go ahead and buy yourself a pair of pants.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, tossing a black American Express on my desk in front of me.
“Consider it a bonus.”
And with that, he walks into his office and slams the door closed behind him.
Honestly, I don’t even know how the door is still attached to the wall at this point.
But if Roman Antonov thinks for a second that I’m going to buy a pair of pants, then he is sorely mistaken.
My shopping bags swing in the breeze as I walk down the city sidewalk.
His card took a beating, and I’m so looking forward to seeing his face when he sees the little leather skirt I bought, that is far shorter than the one I wore to work today.
Roman wants me to wear pants? Hah!
I head toward his preferred coffee place on the corner, Roast. When I googled it, it said they are well known for their ‘high quality coffee beans’.