Page 16 of Surprise! I'm Engaged To My Boss
“No, Smith. I didn't say anything.”
“'Mister' Smith,” he corrected me, with all his arrogance now multiplied. “Don't forget that I am now the head of the sector.”
“Thanks tomywork,” I dared to answer, seeing his gaze in my direction become completely possessed by hatred.
“Don't make frivolous accusations. You were part of my team, you did the project under my supervision.”
“I did the project alone, staying here at the company until nine p.m. every day and still taking work home and staying up all night. You know you had no part in it.”
He pressed his lips together, visibly trying to control himself from shouting any insults in response. We were surrounded by other people, and he knew he would lose his ground if he overreacted.
“Alright, Collins... come with me to my office. We'll talk about this without an audience.”
I knew what that meant. The son of a bitch was going to get me fired. It was the last thing I needed atthat moment, but I simply couldn't stand by and watch him benefit from a job I had done.
And if I had the courage to stand up to him there, in front of a sector full of employees, it wasn't in the face of that threat that I would show fear. I was obviously terrified of the idea of being unemployed, but I wouldn't lower my head.
So, I stood up, already preparing to follow him to his room. But neither of us had taken a single step when we heard a voice:
“Actually, both of you come with me tomyoffice.”
Smith turned toward the door, and, with that, he moved out of my field of vision, allowing me to see who had said that.
Not that I had any doubts.
Chapter Seven
CAMILA
I still didn't remember much about Friday night, but one of my memories was of the strong, masculine tone of voice that man had.
Hearing it again and now being able to look at him without being drunk or hungover, I could perfectly understand why I had gone to bed with him.
It was just a great shame that I didn't remember anything.
“Excuse me, sir, I...” Smith began to speak, but was interrupted by Michael Turner, who repeated:
“My office. Now.”
He turned his back and walked towards the elevator. I craned my neck to the side to get a better look at him. Even wearing that suit, I could clearly see how delicious his ass was.
A flash of memory hit me.
Elevator, hot ass...
A pop song sung by two drunk, out-of-tune voices, him shaking his hips while I slapped his ass and also danced in a completely awkward way.
I shook my head, forcing myself to shake off those memories. It was embarrassing.
Finally, I got up and walked with Smith to the elevator door. Inside, our boss was already waiting for us. Michael Turner pressed the button for the penthouse and then typed a four-digit code on the digital keypad, which probably restricted access to his office.
“Just you wait...” Smith teased me, whispering.
I felt like responding with an impolite 'fuck you', even though I wasn't used to using such vulgar vocabulary (at least not when I was sober). I had nothing left to lose here. All I had left was (a little bit of) my dignity, and I was going to keep it until the end.
If I was going to be fired, I would leave with my head held high.
Finally, we arrived at the penthouse. The elevator door opened, revealing to our eyes all the beauty of that place.
