Page 13 of Reluctantly You

Welcome to my life, asshole.

By the time lunch rolls around, I slip out of my office, planning on just leaving for the day when Gideon stops me in the hall.

“Mr. Morris,” he says, his voice making shivers pulse through me. I straighten my shoulders and turn around. “Where are you off to?”

“Lunch,” I bite out, forcing myself not to blink. If I do, my eye may twitch and it will give away how infuriated I am. How upset this transition has made me. How much my life seems to be falling apart at this moment.

I don’t want to appear weak to this man. He seems like the kind of person to latch on to it, to exploit it.

“You’re early. Your lunch isn’t for another thirty minutes. I’d like to see you in my office.”

I feel my teeth grind. “I’ve never had to check in and out of the office before.”

“Hm, yes. Well, things will be different now.”

He tilts his head and watches me intently, making me shift on my feet. For some reason, just his simple stare makes me nervous. And yet it’s in my bones to be contrary. I’ve never been known for being nice and malleable. It’s why my dad wanted me for this job. I can cut when I need to.

“Not for me,” I reply and then turn around and make my way out of the building.

Fuck him. I can go to lunch whenever the hell I want. He’s not going to micromanage me just because he has his name on the paperwork now. I’m the finance director. He’ll have to fire me to get his way.

I return from lunch incredibly late. I took my goddamn time, knowing that by doing so I’d be missing a meeting I needed to attend. But then again, who even fucking notices when I’m gone? No one seemed to when I was out for almost a week. They all thought I quit and didn’t even bother to contact me to ask. They were probably happy to see me gone.

It’s not like I’ve made friends while I’ve been here. I’ve never really felt the need to chat with my coworkers. I was here to make money, to rise to the top—not for superficial relationships.

I inwardly scoff as I make my way back to my office, but before I can reach it, I see Gideon chatting with Shondra at the front desk, looking amiable and friendly. But when his gaze turns toward me, it hardens. Flicks of anger pulse around him, and he arches an eyebrow when he sees my movements stutter.

“Mr. Morris. Glad you’re back. I’d like to speak to you in my office now.”

“I have a meeting I need to attend.”

He stands a little taller and his jaw twitches. “You can attend when I’m done speaking with you.”

I feel like stomping my foot, like throwing a fit, but I don’t. I just follow him to his office, the one my father practically lived in. It’s different now, newer, less cluttered. Gideon is a different kind of man, it seems. Much more minimalist and modern. Where my father had a large mahogany desk, he has a sleek glass one. The book shelves that lined my dad’s space have been torn down. I wonder what he’ll put there instead.

My eyes swivel to Gideon, who is taking a seat behind his sleek desk, hands folded nicely in front of him. He looks immaculate, strong, and I find myself standing a little taller.

“Take a seat, Mr. Morris.”

“I’m good where I am.”

He lets out a dark chuckle. “Your behavior is…exactly what I was expecting.”

I feel my teeth grind. “Yeah, good for you.”

“I wish I’d been wrong. But then, the apple doesn’t seem to fall far from the tree.”

My jaw clenches. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Gideon cocks his head and his hands part, those neat nails tapping on the glass top.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I expect you to remain professional while working for me.”

I look away and stare outside. Why the fuck should I even respond? He didn’t ask me a question.

“Will you continue to do your job, Mr. Morris?”

“Have I been demoted? I don’t even know if my title is still the same.”

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