Page 113 of Craving Francesca

“You can still—”

“I’m just letting you know,” I replied, gesturing for him to stop. “So you can keep a closer eye on things. Everyone saw it. Everyone was talking about it. No one did anything about it—probably because he’s the owner’s nephew, and they were too afraid. That’s whyIdidn’t report it. You’re his boss. You could do something about it.”

“I will,” Tate said, coming around his desk. “Thanks for all your hard work. We’re going to miss you around here.”

“Thank you.”

As Gray walked me back to my office to pack up my things, he leaned down to my ear. “You think he’ll do anything?”

“Not a chance in hell,” I muttered. “That guy’s a limp noodle.”

Gray’s bark of laughter made me smile.

I was still smiling five minutes later while I threw an old water bottle and my favorite pens into a box Linda had left on my desk. “These are mine,” I informed Gray while he carefully put a small plant in the box. “I brought them from home.”

“I’m not judgin’,” he replied. “You want, I’ll carry the fuckin’ desk out.”

“Frankie,” an unwelcome voice called from the doorway.

I lifted my head to see Scott standing there. I should’ve known that he’d show up. My luck in that department hadn’t been great. The amazing thing, though, was that my stomach didn’t clench with nervousness. The power he’d wielded was gone.

“You’re back.”

“I’m not,” I said flatly as Gray straightened and turned toward the asshole.

“Call off your dogs,” Scott ordered me. I wondered if he’d feel so brave if he knew that Gray didn’t give a shit who was watching.

“Don’t, baby,” I murmured quietly to Gray. I looked back at Scott. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” he argued, taking a step forward before changing his mind and shuffling back. “Tell them to stop.”

“Sorry, Scott,” I said with a shrug. “I can’t help you.”

“Frankie,” Scott snarled.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Gray ordered, his voice so low and dark that even I felt it snake down my spine.

Scott opened his mouth again, but nothing came out. He spun and rushed away from the door.

Grabbing the photos of Myla, Lou and I off the desk, I set them in the box. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?” Gray asked, turning away from the door. “You don’t need to rush.”

“I didn’t have that much here,” I assured him. “This is it.”

“All right.” He picked up the box and waited for me to precede him through the door.

As we walked out of the office, I waved at some of the coworkers I liked and ignored the rest. I hadn’t really made any friends there—which was probably my fault. I’d already found my crew. I didn’t feel the need to go looking for anyone to add. Riding the elevator to the ground floor felt good. Walking out into the parking lot for the last time felt even better.

The weight that had been dragging me down so far that I’d felt like I was going to collapse under it? Gone. Just like that.

I practically skipped back to the truck.

“Happy?” Gray asked as he set the box into the back seat.

“I don’t ever have to come back here.”

“Nope.”

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