Page 13 of One Last Time?
“Thank you. Thank you for what you did.” I thought I should show my thanks and not be a jerk by forgetting my manners. “That wasn’t one of my finest moments. I am not like that.”
“I will try not to allow my first or second impression of you to have any bearing on my assessment.”
I folded my arms. “Second impression?”
“I hate lateness.”
“I was five minutes late.” I scowled.Who did he think he was?
Dad had already ripped into me about the lateness yesterday as if I was some child, and now this guy thought he should bring it up too.
“It was six, but hey, since my first impression of you was so lasting, I can forgive the six minutes.” He smirked.
My cheeks burned and flushed when he held my gaze, then his eyes dropped to my breasts. I swallowed hard and tried to stand a little taller in my heels so I would look like that stare of his didn’t make me think that he was remembering how the naked version of me had told him I’d wait for him upstairs.
“Like I said, it wasn’t one of my finest moments at all. I don’t usually… um…”
“Ask strange men you just met in a bar if they want to sleep with you?” He filled in. “Of course, that was hardly the worst thing you did that night. It was, however, the thing that first shocked me.”
My chest tightened, and I groaned inwardly. I’d definitely landed myself in this mess. I absolutely had. I was the idiot who thought it would be a great idea to get wasted in front of people and embarrass myself. It was just my fucking luck that I’d embarrassed myself in front of this guy. Someone I’d be working with.
“Can’t you just forget the whole damn thing?” I asked.
He chuckled, and the sound seeped into me. “No,” was all he said, to my surprise.
I was pretty certain a normal person would have just said yes and go as far as understanding.
“What do you mean by no? Why can’t you forget about it?”
“Because it’s not the kind of thing a man can forget.”
I blinked several times. “That is absurd. It’s not like you didn’t know I was drunk off my face. I wasn’t acting like myself. You don’t have to be a complete ass.”
“You know, I think I liked you better drunk. Maybe I should wait to speak to that version of you.”
“I don’t usually get drunk like that. It’s not something I normally do.”
“Of course, I doubt you would make me think otherwise.”
“It’s true. I just had a situation I was dealing with.” I hadn’t outrightly told him what happened to me, but he’d guessed from my rant on cheaters.
“Ahh yes, the cheating boyfriend. I won’t forget that either.” The humor left his eyes as he moved to the desk and set his folder down. His eyes went back to that emotionless stare when he looked back to me. “Here’s how this is going to work. You leave things like cheating boyfriends and situations at home. I don’t have time for shit like that. We have ten weeks, and I have work to do. Lateness is a no. I hate late anything, so organize yourself better so you aren’t late. And, please, for the love of God, don’t come to work drunk.” He inclined his head to the side and amplified the stare. “I don’t think I could stand a replay of the other night.”
Oh my God. This guy was a prick and a half.
“Don’t worry. You won’t get one.” That was the best I could say.
He and the whole situation was like a big slap in my face. For all I’d done. All that I’d done here and in my life, and this was the result.
What could I do though? If I wanted to work here, I’d have to play.
He gave me a curt nod, and the seriousness returned to his face. Then he opened the folder, and my eyes landed on the title of the front sheet.
Taylor Cartwright Assessment
Then there was a table of contents. It was a folder on all my campaigns and everything I’d authorized.
“What is all this?” I asked.
