Page 127 of Catfish

“Since you’re so concerned about Mila,” I say as collectedly as I can. “Maybe she can work under you, then she can stay here.” Reagan’s brows knit together, and I stifle back a sigh. “For reasons I can’t tell you, she can’t be linked to me.”

“Why?”

“I just told you why.”

Her pretty face contorts. “No, you didn’t.”

"I'll add more to your paycheck, so you can pay her through it. She can't be on my payroll. Heads are about to roll, Miss Shelton, and Mila will be in the middle of it."

Reagan slowly sizes me up then says, "What did you have her do?"

My jaw tightens. I know I’m an asshole, but I don’t do everything to people.

“What makes you think I—”

“I almost married a politician, Governor,” she practically spits at me. “I know what your type will do to get what they need. You’ll destroy everything and anyone to rise up. You dismantle—” I’m in her face before she finishes the next words out of her mouth.

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me,” I seeth. “No one does.” I point to the door behind her. “Except for that woman out there who busts her ass to make me what she believes I can be. Everyone else, I let you see what I want you to see. That Wikipedia page you wanted to stalk me on, that's the bare minimum to show the world that I exist. If I didn't care about Mila, I wouldn't have offered what I just said, which is more than a lot of people that work for me get. But since you and Emmy like her, I'll find a way to keep her around."

Our chests match, hoisting inhales and exhales quicker than normal. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the beautiful woman that is Reagan softens her expression.

She contemplates me and what I just said in her head. Thankfully, she’s not slow as hell because she breaks through the silence that’s engulfing us by the second.

“I’ll keep her around,” she mumbles. “But get the hell out of my face." I recede the space between us, but then she counters my step with one of her own back towards me.

“Don’t ever yell at me like that again or—”

“Or what?” I challenge. “You think you can come in here and call me a ‘dickhead’ while—”

“I asked you a question.”

“That you had no business asking.” We’re matched up again, neither of us backing down with scowls and glares meshing and clashing into each other.

I need her the fuck out of my office before I slam her into something. “You can make it up to me, Miss Shelton. Tomorrow night, Em and I will be here until probably morning going over debate questions. I’m going to be hungry.”

“I’m busy,” she sneers. “And that’s not in my job description.”

“But asking me about my staff and barging into my office is?” I shoot back. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Do you speak to all your employees like this?” she asks, screwing up her face. “Because I’m surprised they’re still here.”

I give her a half-smile. “No, just little fireballs with dark hair that have excessively large, smartass mouths and the balls or stupidity to challenge everything I do. Everyone else avoids me like the plague.”

She doesn’t respond to that remark, I mean, how can you deny it? She tests me at every turn and has a comment for everything.

“Mila can work with me until our contract is over,” she spouts while hugging herself. It’s that simple action that gets my brain reeling with ideas.

There’s tension here. I'm on the verge of pulling her into my arms, and she's afraid that I will.

This isn’t just me.

She feels the electricity between us too. And it’s heavy as fuck.

“Then you’ll have to find her another position,” she continues. “I don’t know if I’ll have room for her afterward.”

I bow my head in agreement. "Fine." She turns to leave, but I'm far from done. "You still owe me."

She snaps her head. “What?”

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