Page 13 of Big & Bossy

He cleared his throat as he forced his eyes back to mine. “We do have business to discuss, yes,” he said, sliding a menu across the table toward me. “But I suggest we also eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” I lied, placing two fingers on the opposite side of the menu and sliding it back to him. “I thought you wanted to meet here since it’s better than your shitty rental office, not because you actually wanted food.”

“That is half of the reason.” He smirked at me as he pushed it back. “The other half is because I’d like to have a meal with you. So pick something out and order it. It’s on me.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be buying your meal? I mean, I’m supposed to be convincing you to use our services. Normally that comes with the territory.”

“Does an employee normally buy dinner for their boss?” He shot back, the edge of his mouth curling up in a smirk.

“I’m not your employee,” I said, mostly under my breath as I flipped the menu open in front of me.

————

Our small talk as we ate consisted entirely of nothing. Empty chats, business stats, and weak attempts to pretend that we didn’t hate each other. Jackson ordered something with scallops, and I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu—the kid’s portion of chicken tenders and fries.

I was not about to let him own me because of one expensive meal.

Jackson wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin he’d placed in his lap as he leaned forward once again. “So, the designs.”

Fucking finally. “Yes. I’ve drawn up a few ideas and some mood boards for you to have a look at. Hold on,” I said, leaning over in my chair just enough that my ass lifted from the seat, giving him a good view of my hips and a bit of thigh as I rummaged through my bag.

“No need,” he interrupted, his voice hoarse. “I prefer to see things in person.”

I sat upright, my breasts bouncing as I did. “What does that mean?”

“I think the best way to gain insight into what I’m after would be to travel to a few different tech headquarters so that you can get a grasp of how I want the office to look and feel,” he explained. His hand moved under the table and I chose to believe that he was brushing away crumbs and not adjusting himself.

“You know Google has an image function, right?”

His answering chuckle felt insidious. “I think seeing the places in person would be best for your creative endeavors.”

“So you’re willing to spend God-knows-how-much in order to send me and Harry to a load of places just to get inspiration?”

The smile that spread across his cheeks was hollow, foul, evil. Or maybe I just wanted to see it that way. “No, princess. You and I will go. Money isn’t an object for me.”

I couldn’t stop myself from physically recoiling from his words. “What?” I breathed, slouching back in my seat, my posture and presentation failing. “No. Absolutely not. Why can’t Harry come? You just said money wasn’t an object.”

“Harry isn’t needed,” he said simply, his smile lowering as he realized I was not happy about this. “Besides, I think we need time to work out our kinks. You’re obviously still angry with me, and that’s fair, but?—”

“Fuck you,” I seethed, my nails nearly breaking from the force I gripped the table with. “I’m not traveling with you. Especially not alone. I don’t want to spend a single second that I don’t have to with you.”

“Mandy—”

“Oh, now you call me Mandy? Absolutely not. What is all of this, anyway? You tortured me ten years ago and now you want to come back and finish the fucking job?”

“Mandy, calm down. You’re getting worked up over something that doesn’t have to happen,” he hissed, his voice an angry whisper. The wait staff had started to stare and suddenly it made sense why he’d booked out an entire section.

“I’m getting worked up? How the hell did you expect me to act when you decided to waltz back into my life as if nothing happened?”

“Our history doesn’t need to play a part in our working relationship now,” he said sternly, the hand supporting his chin balling tightly into a fist. “I don’t see why you can’t move past it.”

He didn’t understand. He didn’t care.

“Calm down so we can figure out how to move forward with this.”

“You think I want to move forward? Do you think for one second I’d be doing any of this if I had any reasonable say? I wouldn’t. I’d have run for the hills from you by now, Jackson.”

“Oh come on. It can’t be that bad to work for me,” he snorted, his attempt at bringing the conversation back to a calm chat failing miserably.

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