Page 21 of I Am Salvation

I count to ten silently. Rod is right. Marcus needs this position, but I don’t.

My father told me to make my own decision, to go with my conscience.

My conscience told me to email the client. But it also told me that I didn’t want to make life more difficult for my colleagues. I don’t know Marcus well, but I understand that he needs his job.

“I wasn’t going to send the email,” I say truthfully. “I gave it some thought, and I decided the fallout wasn’t worth it.”

He furrows his brow. “And I’m supposed to believe you why, exactly?”

“I can’t make you believe me. You can’t get inside my head any more than I can get inside yours. All I can tell you is that I went downstairs and called my father.”

“So Daddy told you what to do.”

“For your information, he didn’t tell me what to do. He told me I was mature enough to make my own decision on this matter, and though I think the client has the right to know, I decided not to send the email because I didn’t want to put other people’s lives in jeopardy for something that may never be an issue.”

“I see.” He flattens his lips into a line.

He’s a snake. I can almost see scales growing on that pathetic jawline. I can’t believe I thought he was good-looking at one time.

Now he looks like a reptile.

Except that’s not being fair to reptiles.

“I’m afraid your services are no longer needed at this firm, Diana.”

“So you’re firing me,” I say. “For writing an email that I didn’t send. You wouldn’t have even known about it if you hadn’t been snooping.”

He stands slowly. “That’s exactly why I’m looking. Do you think you’re the first young architect who’s come in here with a moral high ground? Who thinks business is run on feelings instead of money? You’re wrong.”

I look into his eyes for a moment. I want him to look into the eyes of the woman he’s firing on her second day for the crime of drafting a damned email.

And then I lunge for the computer.

Rod jumps to his feet, blocking my path. “What the hell are you doing?”

“If I’m going to get fired for an email,” I say, staring him down again, “I may as well actually send it.”

“The hell you will.” Rod picks up the phone in my cubicle. “Security, please escort Ms. Steel out of the building.”

They’ll be here in a few minutes.

If Rod wants me to play the part of the demure, broken woman, I’ll give it to him.

I hunch my shoulders in, wipe fake tears from my eyes. “Please, Rod. I’ve worked so hard for this job. I’d do anything to stay here with you.”

Rod narrows his eyes. “Anything?”

God. I hate men sometimes. But I have a mission.

I straighten my spine and pout my lips. I even arch my back a bit to stick my boobs out. “What’ll it take, Mr. Reynolds?”

He takes a step toward me. “I think you know what it would take, Ms. Steel.”

I stick my hand out, try not to vomit as I rub his arm up and down. “Perhaps we can discuss my career somewhere a bit more…private?”

I can tell by the small tent forming in Rod’s pants that my efforts are working.

He leans into my ear, growling lecherously. “There’s a supply closet by the break room.”

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