Page 38 of Long Shot

Beck, Marco, and I moved to the office after our interesting meeting. After confessing all the details about how Reese stepped in and took over, Sid gave us a terrified look and asked, “Am I canned?”

“Not right now,” I gritted out.

Then Sid slunk off to the kitchen. Danny is now doing inventory and Carrie left to go to G Gallery.

I check my watch. “Reese should be here soon.”

“Just don’t freak out on her.” Beck crosses his arms.

“I’m not going to freak out on her. I’m going to fire her.”

“What? No!” Beck gapes at me.

“Hold up.” Marco waves his hands. “Why do you want to fire her?”

“She’s been lying to us!”

Marco and Beck exchange looks. “Well . . . she’s been a little deceptive . . . but I don’t know about lying,” Marco says. “Why don’t you just talk to her and find out what’s going on?”

“She actually came up with some pretty fantastic stuff,” Beck says. “I don’t think we should fire her. I think we should promote her.”

“What?” Now I stare openmouthed. “What the actual fuck?”

“I’m serious. Hey, do you want me to talk to her? Or Marco?”

I narrow my eyes. “No.”

“Maybe we should be here, though,” Marco says.

Jesus, what do they think I’m going to do? “I can do it. I hired her. I’ll deal with it.”

“Okay. But let me be clear on this.” Marco leans forward, shoving his face right in Cade’s. “Do not fire her.”

My muscles tense all over again. I’m so fucking pissed I could spit bullets.

Why? I never get angry like this. I’m in control of my emotions at all times. It’s Reese who does this to me. I take a deep breath. “Fine,” I say through clenched teeth. “I won’t fire her . . . right now.”

Beck and Marco wear identical looks of frustrated annoyance. The three of us stand glaring at each other for a long moment in a tense standoff. “Okay,” Beck says finally.

Beck and Marco leave and I throw myself down into my chair.

Jesus. I didn’t even have to ask Sid how long this has been going on. It’s pretty obvious. I knew there was something weird happening, when Sid suddenly came up with those great ideas, but I was too lazy to put it all together. Lazy. Stupid. Blind. Or maybe in denial that the cook we were on the verge of firing hasn’t really come through after all.

A soft knock on the open door has me lifting my head.

Reese.

She stands in the doorway, smiling faintly. She’s dressed for work in another black dress, this one sleeveless with a bunch of pleats that wrap around her slender body. It, too, shows off her amazing legs, and today she wears a pair of pointy-toed shoes with a low but spiky heel. Her bright hair has been pulled up into a bunch of loops on the back of her head with wispy pieces hanging out.

“Come in,” I say gruffly, now distracted from my anger. I gesture at another chair.

She advances into the room and perches on the edge of the chair. Her fingers go to the hem of her dress and rub it. Fingers that are shaking. Just a bit.

“What the everloving fuck have you been playing around at?” I shout. Then I close my eyes. That’s not how you talk to an employee.

On some level, I recognize that my anger is way out of proportion to the incident.

“What are you talking about?”

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