Page 6 of Filthy Promises

3

VINCE

The door clicks shut. I step away from Vanessa.

“Did you hear something a minute ago?” she asks, adjusting her skirt back down and shimmying her panties back up her legs.

“No.”

But that’s a fucking lie.

I heard something alright. Saw something. Winked at something before I even knew what I was doing.

It’s not my damn fault, though. Something about that girl just drew it out of me. What a fucking irony—buried to the hilt in one woman and a second one takes me by surprise.

But I can’t stop thinking about those wide, startled eyes. Her softOh.Cheeks flushing crimson, the black sliver of her open mouth as she gawked at me while Van here put on a porn star performance.

Christ, my head hurts from her screaming.

“You should go,” I tell her coldly.

Vanessa winces like I struck her. “Was I not?—?”

“Don’t make this a whole thing.” I crack my neck from side to side and adjust the knot in my tie. “You’ve done good work here, but it’s time for you to explore new grounds. You’ll be transferred to the CFO’s desk. He’ll take care of you.”

Just like that, her face crumples in horror. “Wait, no! Did I not?—”

“Thank you, Ms. Bowman. Safe travels.”

I’ll forget her name the moment she’s gone. But it’s for the best that way. Keep them anonymous, keep them meaningless, keep them always with one foot out the door.

Because if you don’t care about anything, then nothing can hurt you.

It’s for the best.

She wants to cry; fuck knows I’ve been around enough crying women to see all the signs. The trembling lips, the red-rimmed eyes. Her lipstick is smeared halfway up her cheek.

But then her mouth flattens into an enraged slash. I know what’s coming next even before she says it.

“You’re an?—!”

“—asshole,” I finish. “Yes. I know. That is by design.” I point toward the door. “Thank you for your service, Vanessa. It’s time for you to go now.”

Only then does she finally listen. Not happily. Not pleasantly. But she does listen.

Even she knows where the lines are drawn.

As soon as Vanessa leaves, I sit at my desk and pull up the company directory on my computer. I didn’t get a good look at the intruder’s badge, but I know she came to deliver quarterly reports. Which places her in marketing or finance, most likely.

I scroll through employee photos, searching for those startled doe eyes.

No…

Not that one…

Not her…

There.

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