Page 82 of His Temptation
I may not be able to fix us, but maybe I can at least convince him to take pity on me and keep me employed. That’s a lot to ask after the words I just spit at him, but I have to do something. I start to think about Ben and what this would mean for him, and a deep feeling of regret settles in the recesses of my soul.
“Girl,” Paris approaches me, carrying a box in her hand and her purse slung over her shoulder.
Oh my gosh. He really is going to fire me. But the man doesn’t even have the balls to do it himself. I look into his office, and he’s watching me with such disdain—I feel it deep in my bones. He sure acted fast. What’s it been, five minutes?
“What did you do?” she whispers over my desk.
My throat closes up. I feel nausea churning in my stomach, threatening to rise up and further humiliate me. Paris waits for me to answer, but my words are stuck in the back of my throat.
“Well, whatever you did, it’s apparently landed you a spot as Roy’s assistant. He stormed over to my desk and said Lincoln had demanded they switch assistants immediately. No questions asked.”
She starts to come around my desk and places her box, filled with all her things, on the ground by my feet. I stare at thecontents of her box in disbelief. He’s not going to fire me. After all of that, after everything I just accused him of, he’s switching me to another executive.
I look up again, and his icy eyes remain glued on me. I stand up and grab a box in the corner that was going to go to recycling. I fill it with what little contents and personal belongings I’ve gathered here in the four months that I’ve been here, then grab my purse and coat.
“I’ll talk to you later. I think you have some explaining to do,” she says as she takes a seat in my chair.
Instead of standing here like a fool while Lincoln watches me, I take the walk of shame out of his sight and head straight for Roy’s corner of the floor. Tears threaten to spill over my lids, but I suck in a breath to keep them at bay.
This is not the time to wallow in my self-pity. I have a job to save. I have a brother to take care of, and I need to make that my number one priority.
30
LINCOLN
Idid the right thing. I know that moving her over to Roy was the right move. Still, every time I look up and see another woman’s face, a strange sense of longing floods my body. Longing for the comfort her presence brought me.
Paris will be a fine assistant. Roy has only ever had the best things to say about her. She already knows the ways of the company and our programs, so there won’t be much of a learning curve for her.
Still, she’s not Kylie.
I shrivel a little at the recollection of her accusations. There are no words for how it felt for me to realize that she sees me just like every other person in this city does. A heartless billionaire who only cares about himself. Someone who moves from woman to woman simply to objectify and use them for my own personal pleasure. She was so quick to think the absolute worst of me.
Instead of going home to sulk by myself, away from the questions and scrutiny of others, tonight just so happens to be a happy-hour night with the guys.
I show up a little late, hoping they have already settled into some bullshit conversation that I can slide into and remain untouched. I order my drink and listen to the five of them discuss the refs’ calls during the last Sunday night football game.
“It was total bullshit.” Walker slams down his beer. “That tackle was not roughing the passer. What kind of shit call was that?”
“Totally agree, man.” Dean nods his head. “I had to turn the game off. I couldn’t watch it any longer.”
“Did you catch the game?” Colton nods at me just as my beer is placed in front of me.
I shrug as I chug down half the beer in one sip. “I had it on in the background. Wasn’t really paying much attention to it.”
As I recall, I was texting with Kylie while she was trying to make tiramisu. She kept freaking out about the raw egg in the recipe, and I had to calm her down. It was rather hilarious. I ended up having to research it and told her to make sure she was using pasteurized eggs but that she should be fine. It is how you make authentic tiramisu.
And just like that, her words from earlier ring in my ears, like I’m wearing headphones and the conversation is playing on repeat. No matter how much I try to ignore them and stay engaged, they continue to be louder and more cutting.
I finish my beer and order another one. I listen as they move from one topic to the other, each one as pointless as the last. I don’t care about football, work, or politics. Not when a womanI began to trust just took that trust, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it with her heel.
What’s the point of love? Why do people believe in it? Someone can turn on you just like that, with no care for the truth.
Kylie certainly played me well. She wasn’t like the other assistants. They were after my money. She was after something far more valuable—my heart. The worst part of it all is that she got it. She got it—and she broke it.
After my fourth beer, I start to find it hard to focus on anything but the noise in my head, telling me I’m an idiot.
How could she trust you when you refused to trust her first and open up to her?
