Page 14 of Crush

“No. I have my pride just like you have yours.”

“You're going to give me a stroke, woman,” Max said whilst making a forlorn sound.

“Firstly, don’t call me ‘woman’ and secondly, if that happens, you can blame the twenty-a-day death sticks you choke on.”

Max was a smoker.

“Do you evencarethat you could have fucked over the project? Is this all just shits and giggles to you?”

“I don’t think you see me laughing and of course not. I’m here to learn. I took the call as you weren’t available. I did it to help.”

“Well, please don’t do me any more favours. From now on, you don’t answer any calls,” he stated.

“Fine. It sounds likesomeoneneeds his fix,” I scoffed, ignoring how he made me feel like a schoolgirl. I hated the fact that this man could pull so much emotion out of me without even trying.

“What did you say?” Max snapped briskly. Baiting this man was nothing short of foolish but hey ho, that’s me.

I refused to allow him to intimidate me. Sticking my nose in the air, a move I had perfected over the years, I pointed out, “You obviously need a date with a nicotine patch.” I had mentioned him smoking in the past and knew it got to him.

In my opinion, smoking was a weakness and Max thought that too if my mentioning it riled him so much. It was funny really, as his breath was never smoky. He was probably a gum chewer,anothernasty habit.

“You’re such an ungrateful little bitch.”

“Sticks and stones,” I muttered.

“Andlazy.”

Max continued to look down that razor blade of a nose, frustration curling between us.

Where the hell did he get off, talking to me like that? No one had everdaredcalled me a bitch, well, not to myfaceanyway.

My lip curled in annoyance. “How am I lazy? You haven’t told me what you want me to work on today,” I pointed out with a head tilt.

“I sent you an email first thing. One which you still haven’t managed to reply to.”

Ah, oh dear.

Max thenshovedback from my desk and motioned towards it with a sweep of one hand. “And clear your girly shit away, this is supposed to be anoffice, Amber,” he stated, motioning my make-up and stuff with a wave of his hand; items I considered essentials.

A silence stretched between us as the cogs whirred in his set-pot of a head. I imagined there was an Amber section up there. A tidy little place where he filed all the nasty names he wanted to call me. If Max had branded me as a bitch,so be it.

“Fine. I’ll tidy my desk. Anything else you’d like to add to the list?”

The silence stretched as a cocktail of thoughts washed across his face.

Max rolled his shoulders and then said, “I want you to write a report on how you think the best project managers spend their time. I want a thousand words and it needs to be in my inbox by Sunday. Got it?”

Africkingessay? What the actual hell? MaxknewI wanted some action on site but kept forcing paperwork shit on me. He could be such a demanding dick, a thousand words indeed! His request was clearly a punishment for the back chat from earlier.

“Well?” he said, leaning towards me.

The scent of his aftershave hit my nose, and my goodness it was nice. Drat, why did he have to be so good-looking and yet not have any clue on how to speak to a woman? One he wasn’t intending on shagging anyway, not now we worked together, it would be against the rules.

My cheeks flushed, “Fine. I’ll do your stupid report,” I agreed, not in a position to tell him where to stick his request.

“And what about the practical side of things? I want to be on-site more instead of just being in the yard.” Most of the stuff I had been lumbered with was office-based. I wanted to get out there, not necessarily get my hands dirty but at least see how the plans on paper were executed.

“When you dress the part for starters,” he said with a slight sneer, unfolding before me like a block of unleashed temper. And there it was again, derogatory comments about my clothing.

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