Page 57 of It Starts With A No

Maybe this situation was too big for her to handle. Having a desire to make things right wasn’t enough. Lord, I can’t do this anymore. Please make them stop.

The elevator door opened, and Clary silently sighed as the boys’ club exited. Except Neil.

When the door closed again, Neil kneaded her shoulder and stepped up close behind her, pressing his round stomach into her back.

Tamara pinched her lips together, but otherwise ignored what was going on.

Clary closed her eyes again, swallowing her gag reflex.

“Maybe if you sleep with me …” Neil put his other hand on her shoulder. “I’ll—”

Clary turned and slapped Neil across the face.

Tamara gasped, and Neil started back in surprise.

He rubbed the red mark on his face. “You—”

“Shut it.” She stepped forward with her fists clenched. “Shut your filthy mouth.”

The elevator door opened, but Neil didn’t step out. Instead, he glared at her. “You think you’re all-powerful because you have Edward Eolenfeld backing you? The old man only put you up in this position because you’re his current—”

She tried to slap Neil again, but this time he caught her wrist.

Neil tightened his grip, squeezing her wrist so tight she wondered if it might snap.

Clary gritted her teeth, refusing to let out any sound of pain.

“Once he’s sick and tired of you, he—”

“Mr. Lennic, it’s your floor,” Tamara said and pressed the ‘door open’ button.

Neil glanced over, and Clary swung her foot up—right into his groin.

The president of the boys’ club released her hand immediately as he dropped to his knees.

She stomped down on his thigh with her stiletto heel.

She was tempted to do more. Gouge out his eyes? Snip his tongue? She took a deep breath. Vengeance is yours, Lord.

Clary straightened her jacket and glanced at Tamara. “It seems Neil will need some time in the elevator. We can take the stairs.”

Despite the overwhelming urge to gag, Clary managed to smile politely at Neil’s assistant, who was craning her neck to see what was going on inside the elevator.

Clary didn’t bother to say another word as she headed for the stairs.

“I’m so sorry.” Tamara angled the phone screen toward her as they strode up. “See, I arranged for the meeting with the victims to be at six, the way you wanted.”

For a moment, Clary couldn’t understand anything her assistant was saying. Her head was still caught up with what had happened in the elevator and how Tamara had acted as if nothing was happening.

She had thought Tamara was apologizing for that, but she was wrong.

“I don’t know how it got changed to four,” her assistant continued.

Clary laughed once without humor as Tamara rattled on about how the mess with the meeting wasn’t her fault. “Boys’ club,” she said, just so her assistant would shut up.

Because right now, Clary didn’t want to hear her voice. She wasn’t interested in listening to Tamara go on about how it wasn’t her fault.

“And someone should’ve informed us that the customers had arrived,” Tamara said. “Why didn’t anyone tell us until an hour into the situation?”

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