Page 13 of Devilish Bully
“Okay, Miss Clarke,” he says. “I’m giving you a chance to redeem yourself, and then I’ll do you a favor and act like you didn’t say all of those rude-ass things about me in your survey.”
Keeping his eyes on me, he takes a long sip from his mug before setting it on the edge of his desk.
“I’m ready,” he says. “You can do it now.”
“Um, do what exactly, Mr. Pearson?”
“Apologize.”
“What?”
“A-po-lo-gize.” He enunciates every syllable. “Make it worth my time.”
I blink.
“I’m waiting, Miss Clarke.” He’s still glaring at me. “The quicker you say it, the quicker I can make an example out of you with the punishment.”
“I’ll just take the punishment.” I cross my arms. “I’m not sorry for anything I said in that survey.”
“Thank you, Miss Clarke. That was—” He stops talking. “You’re not sorry?”
“I’m sorry you found out publicly,” I say. “Does that count?”
“No. It doesn’t.”
“Well…” I straighten my back. “You really are a terrible boss, and the only reason you have long-lasting employees is because you pay very well. But the money doesn’t seem worth it because we never get time off to spend it, and I can guarantee you that I’m not the only one here who feels this way.”
“Then why is my overall score 92%?”
“Because you clearly cheated, and you’re scared to know the truth.”
He looks like he’s seconds away from losing his shit, like he’s about to fire me.
In the uneasy quiet, reality dawns on me with every second that passes.
Myra’s private school tuition. My mortgage. BILLS.
Before I can consider sucking up my pride and fixing the damage, he speaks.
“Did you speak to your previous boss this way, Miss Clarke?”
“I didn’t have to,” I say. “He wasn’t an insufferable?—”
“Watch it.” He cuts me off. “If he was so good to you, why did you leave him and come to me?”
“I came to your company, Mr. Pearson, because you paid more. That’s it. Full stop.”
“And you honestly believe that I became a billionaire CEO without knowing what I’m doing?”
“I believe you don’t know how to talk to people.”
“Okay, Miss Clarke,” he says. “You can leave now.”
“Am I fired?”
“Obviously,” he says. “I’ll chalk it up to you not turning in the report when I speak to HR, though. I won’t mention your lack of respect for my authority.”
I clench my fists at my sides, and he arches a brow.
