Page 2 of Sassy Love
Never hurts to look your best, especially if you’re about to have your cage rattled. At least I can save face, somewhat, by keeping up appearances. Something my mother taught me after Dad walked out on us when I was eight.
The one and only thing my mother bothered to give me—a tough outer shell.
Millie holds the door for me, giving me a reassuring smile. I inhale, nod, and stalk my way down the hallway to the elevator. Two floors up, I step out onto marbled floors. As if even the floor is more superior up here.
“Mr. Carlson is waiting for you, Carlie,” Nerada says. At least she is always kind. But her gaze darts away quickly and she busies herself with shuffling items on her desk.
Shit.
Outside his door, I shove my shoulders back and swallow past the lump in my throat. I knock lighter than I intend to.
“Come.” The older man’s voice is brusque and low.
I open the door and walk toward his... gigantic marble desk. I guess the furniture was jealous of the floor.
Every inch of my body vibrates as I hold Cole’s gaze. His grey eyes—flanked by sun-kissed, creased skin—burn into mine. His mouth is a thin line as he smooths down his tie. He nods to the chair in front of his desk, and I sit.
A heartbeat later, the door opens behind me, and three suits walk in. Damage control in the form of legal and finance, I suppose.
“What the hell exactly were you thinking letting your highest-paying client fend for himself in the biggest press release of his career, Miss Lamont?” Carlson snaps.
Not trusting myself to respond right away, I try to channel my inner Millie. “With all due respect, Cole, my leave was cleared by HR, and my client is a grown man. His actions are his own responsibility.”
“I was anticipating that answer. Yet we assure our clients when they sign up with our firm that we will be there to guide them in situations like this, so that they are not left to fend off the paparazzi wolves alone.”
“Why wasn’t someone sent in my place?”
“That, we are not sure of. Perhaps a lapse in your planning?” a low voice says as I turn to find the guy from legal, his smug over-round face puckering as if just being in the same room has him sour.
The other two suits stand on either side of him.
Finance and . . . HR?
I snap my gaze back to Carlson.
“My planning was and is adequate. One of the other PR reps had been assigned to cover my clients for the short time I took leave.”
“You are blaming this on a junior?” the next guy says. Obviously from finance with that shiny silver tie and gelled-down parted blond hair that looks like his mother’s been styling it since he was in diapers.
“No, I?—”
“It appears clients of this caliber are above your head, Miss Lamont. Effective immediately, you are demoted to smaller accounts, nothing over the monetary value of two hundred thousand. You will report to the department below yours tomorrow morning for a rundown and allocation of accounts. If this isn’t going to work for you, we will require your resignation in no more than two weeks. Is that understood?” Carlson’s grey eyes have darkened.
I open my mouth to reply but words slam against the rock blocking my airways.
I look at the three men in the room, still standing.
Ambush.
This was a fucking ambush. Fire seeps through my limbs, flooding my neck and face. The third man in the room hasn’t taken his focus off me the entire time. Conflict laces his dark blue eyes, his jaw tight. I think I saw his picture in a monthly blast. The new HR guy.
He hasn’t say a single word.
This was an ambush, and a premeditated one, by the looks of it. I turn back to face Cole. If I lose my job, so does Millie. So it’s a no-brainer; I have to stay.
“That will be fine, Mr. Carlson. I won’t let you down again.”
HR guy flinches a little and drops his gaze to the marble floor.
