Page 70 of Power
“Thanks.”
Why was my heart thundering in my chest? The hardest part, being believed, was virtually a sure thing. I’d spent the entire weekend with Jace, so he knew me well enough to know I would have no reason to lie about this. Right? So, why then was this so nerve-racking?
I got into the elevator, and just before the doors closed, a hand shot between them, forcing them back open. My stomach dropped to my toes. Clad in a black suit that was fitting for his dark soul, Grabby Hands appeared. He had the nerve to smirk at me as he entered the elevator, trapping me alone with him.
Fantastic. Just … fantastic.
“What happened to your cheek?” he asked, eyeing the mark from last night. “You mouth off to somebody else?”
Mouth off. Wow.
“No, I got it from dodging questions as absurd as that one.” Istared straight ahead at the elevator doors, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.
“I’m on my way to deliver my recommendation for the job. The one you interviewed for.”
“Good for you.” I kept my voice flat. Dead. Unimpressed.
“It’s not too late to bump your name to the top of the list.”
I glared at him. He smelled like cedar and misogyny.
“We can meet tonight if you’d like.” His voice dropped into a sleazeball octave.
I took one deep breath to calm my absolute boiling rage at this man. He probably expected me to either comply or cower away from him, but I would do neither of those two things.
“In case it wasn’t clear when you were sexually harassing me the last time, your advances are unwanted and unprofessional. Stop.”
He smiled at me with condescension and said, “Last chance. You want the job or not?” As if his perverted tone wasn’t bad enough, he moved closer.
I could not believe the balls on this guy. Having the audacity to sexually harass someone during an interview was disgusting enough. Taking another chance at it was repulsive. But being this brazen, this vile? That took the cake.
Too bad for him, this document in my hand was about to destroy his ass. Within minutes, Jace would have this guy’s name, and his career would be professionally cremated.
The elevator doors dinged open, and I gave him a smirk back.
“It was nice working with you,” I said, making my exit.
The fact that Grabby Hands was nervous enough about my veiled threat to follow me all the way down the corridor toward Jace’s office gave me all sorts of satisfaction. Outside the closed door, a crowd of executives had gathered for what had to be a massively important meeting, but when that door opened, Jace locked eyes with me.
And only me. Other people might not have noticed the way he looked down at my hand, at the paper clutched in it, or the wayhis mouth lifted slightly on one side as he met my gaze once more. But I did. And seeing as how Grabby Hands might be standing behind me—the creep—I squared my shoulders and played the role of confidence. Pure confidence.
Jace greeted the other men and women quickly with handshakes, making his way through the crowd of leaders until he got to me. My pulse quickened as he approached, that intensity in his eyes making it clear he had only one destination: me.
Grabby Hands walked around me, extending his hand with a confident smile. My stomach twisted as I watched him approach Jace, anticipating the interaction between my protector and my harasser.
Jace looked at him for a moment, his expression shifting in a way I couldn’t quite read. Then, to my absolute horror, instead of just accepting the handshake, Jace clasped his hand, pulled him halfway in, and gave him that familiar one-armed pat on the back that men reserved for old friends.
Seeing this, my brain decided to turn into sloth-level slow motion as I witnessed the scene unfolding before me. Witnessed the intimacy that these two guys clearly shared. Jace hadn’t bro-hugged any of his other executives. In fact, he didn’t strike me as a hugger at all, and even though it was a very masculine, pat-on-the-back kind of hug, it was a hug nonetheless. Any doubt about its significance evaporated when Grabby Hands shot me a victorious look, his villainous eyebrow arched.
Total power play, flapping his proverbial dick on the table, as if to silently say,See, Scarlett? I’m super close with the owner. So, good luck getting anyone to believe you.
My throat ran dry. And that pounding heart decided now was a great time to do full-on cartwheels, bouncing around my ribs like it was auditioning for Cirque du Soleil.
Maybe they weren’tthatclose though. Maybe, I don’t know, Grabby Hands had rescued Jace from a flat tire or something? Okay, my mind needed to come up with better explanations. Andfast. Because the alternative, that they were close friends, could not be reality.
“What happened to your face?” Grabby Hands asked Jace, who was sporting a bruised eye. “Second person I saw today that looks like they were on the losing end of a bar fight.”
Grabby Hands’s dark brown eyes snapped to mine with silent accusation. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, him suspecting Jace and I had been together outside of work, let alone in some kind of violent struggle, was not something I could deal with.
