Page 44 of The Rebel

I sit beside him and he stands, moving towards his desk where he props himself, butt on the edge. He folds his arms in the classic defensive posture and I know I’m going to have to do some serious grovelling to get this back on track.

‘I shouldn’t have stormed out like that. I’m sorry.’

‘And I shouldn’t have yelled at you.’ His tone is cold and I resist the urge to rub my arms. ‘We’ll discuss this another time—’

‘No, we need to get it sorted now.’ I try to sound calm and rational but my voice quavers, undermining my authority. I know PR, he doesn’t. I need to make him see sense. ‘You hired me to do a job and you’ve been nothing but happy with my work. So you need to listen when I say that using you as the face of the vacation project for foster kids is a brilliant idea.’

‘In your opinion.’

‘Of course it’s my opinion,’ I snap, instantly regretting my outburst when he smirks, as if he expects nothing less. ‘Look, for what it’s worth, I understand your concern, about you being rich now and those kids potentially not identifying with you. But you were one of them once and if we play up that angle while showcasing this fabulous resort, it’ll gel nicely—’

‘Thanks for stating the obvious, that I was one of them once.’ He slow claps and while I’ve never struck anyone in my life and I’m not about to start now, my palm itches to wipe that smart-ass smirk off his face.

‘You need to listen to reason—’

‘No, you need to listen to me,’ he says, fury darkening his eyes to ebony. ‘I’m not asking you to make this work without me in the campaign, I’m telling you. Use the new campaign you devised and tack on the kids’ vacation programme.’

‘And what if I say I won’t do it?’

Calling his bluff is stupid and I know it the moment I fling the taunt at him. I’m an idiot. I can’t afford to ruin this campaign before it’s launched. It would mean I’m stuck with Alf until some other project this big comes along and that could be forever.

I need to salvage this situation before it’s too late.

‘If you won’t do it, there’s the door.’ He shrugs. ‘Use it.’

His nonchalance is galling. He’s ready to replace me without a qualm. I’m not egotistical, but I’ve worked in marketing long enough to know not everyone has the same flair as me. Casper sapped my confidence; I’m not letting Hart do the same.

‘Do you always use threats to get what you want?’

His gaze shifts away. ‘I’m the client and I get final say. I thought you were okay with that.’

‘I am.’

A sigh escapes my lips. I can’t fight him. I’ve put too much work into this campaign already. But his attitude disappoints me more than it should: he’s like Casper, demanding and commanding, knowing I’ll back down.

My chest aches with the knowledge that I may have put my trust in the wrong man again.

‘We’ll do it your way.’

‘You don’t have to sound so thrilled about it.’ His mouth kicks up into a wry grin but I don’t return it.

I’m hurting when I shouldn’t be. I’ve made the ultimate mistake: feeling too much for my fling.

At what point did the sex and the work become more?

Every muscle in my body tightens, preparing for a flee response. I need to escape this office before I say something I’ll regret.

‘What’s wrong?’ He stalks towards me and stops within touching distance, too damn close. ‘And don’t say nothing.’

My lips compress so I don’t blurt what I’m feeling and how he’s hurt me with his casual undermining.

To my surprise, he laughs. ‘Honey, the silent game you’re playing? I invented it. Whenever a foster parent taunted me or a sibling pushed me around, I learned to bottle up my rage.’

He shakes his head. ‘Sure, I exploded a few times to make a point, but I discovered that silent rage works so much better than getting physical.’

He reaches out to capture a strand of my hair and I swat his hand away. ‘So you see, I can out-silent you. I’m a stubborn bastard that way.’

Damn him for hitting me in a weak spot: my thirst to know more about him.

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