Page 38 of Cocky Prince
I shoot him a look. “Blackwell didn’t say anything about not talking to new people once they’re hired. Your employee had specific questions about her benefits. I highly doubt you would have been able to answer them without coming to me.”
“You were asking her about my work.”
I walk into my office, and Adam closes the door behind us. “That’s not a crime. Whatever projects hospitality has going on should be known to every member of management,” I say sweetly.
He lets out a breath of frustration. “Hayden, there’s what, one—two days left until Bridget’s been here two weeks? Our bet is nearly up. And I didn’t take you for someone who reneges on a bet. Admit you lost, so that we can move on from this.”
“No. But even if I lose the bet, we need to establish terms. The deal was for me to stay out of the hiring process. You can’t expect me to never talk to new employees. I’ll need to be accessible to them for benefits and other HR needs.”
Instead of sitting in the guest chair, Adam walks to the side of my desk, hand tucked in his pant pocket. He stares out the window. “The others are being hired as contractors. No benefits. They can come to me with any questions they have.”
Blackwell said in our last meeting that the burlesque dancers would be hired as subcontractors through a special account. I’m not surprised Adam is hiring employees through a similar process. But it pisses me off. This is wrong. Human resources is designed to protect the company and its employees. But we can’t do that if they don’t use us—if they go outside the walls of our jurisdiction.
And I don’t know how to stop them.
I cross my arms over my chest. “That is a ridiculous waste of everyone’s time. You seriously want to be the go-between?”
He looks at me as though frustrated. “If I must.”
Okay, I’m not making things easy, but it’s for a good reason.
I study the hard edges of his handsome face. “Why is everything here so secretive?” My voice is filled with judgment. I want Mr. Iceberg to admit what we both know. That Blue Casino is doing something illegal.
His gaze narrows. He parts his lips to say something, and my cell phone buzzes. A half a second later Adam’s cell phone buzzes too.
He breaks eye contact and reaches in his pocket. I grab my purse and reach for my phone, because if we’re both receiving messages, it’s probably something important.
The text is from Bridget, along with a series of images. For a moment, I don’t know what I’m looking at. “Is that a cucumber…in her…? Oh.Ohhh!”
“Son. Of. A. Bitch.” Adam shoves his cell in his pocket and storms from my office.
Holy shit.Bridget said she had an important email to get out. She’d seemed nervous when she realized I was looking over her shoulder. But it’s been half an hour since then. Maybe what she was doing is related to this?
I rest my hands on the desk, blinking in disbelief. Why would she…? Doesn’t matter. It’s done.
I check the text message again. She sent it to everyone. All upper management. But no clients, thank God. We can contain this.
I pick up my desk phone and dial IT. “Remove it from the server. Now!”
“Already on it,” the support guy says, his voice sounding anxious.
My next call is to security. “This is Hayden Tate in human resources. I need you to escort an employee out. Yes, she’s being fired.”
Or at least she will be. I’m assuming that’s where Adam was headed.
What Bridget did—even if it was a mistake—no, justno. Beyond inappropriate. And a serious case of sexual misconduct. This is no slap-on-the-wrist situation. Particularly so soon after the assault charges brought on by an ex-employee on company property. Bridget’s actions are cause for immediate dismissal.
I head for her office and hear Adam’s voice from down the hall.
“What were you thinking?” His tone is calm. Chilled. Not the hard-edged voice he used on me earlier, which I interpreted as pure Hayden frustration. This voice is scarier in its iciness.
Adam would never hurt Bridget, but I rush down the hallway anyway.
“I’m sorry.” Bridget’s voice quavers as I round the corner to her office. “It was an accident. It was only meant to go to a few people.”
Bridget is standing in front of her desk, her face pale as she desperately clicks through her phone. “I must have typed a name wrong and auto-correct filled in one of the lists. I can’t believe this happened.”
“Why are you sending explicit images to employees to begin with?” Adam says. Bridget’s mouth clamps shut. “Answer me,” he growls.
