Page 26 of The Reluctant Hero

I’m getting fired. I can already tell. I’m not talking until someone else says something to me. I can use that time to calm down and try to be hopeful about this job.

“He said that’s all, Vanessa,” Jake calls helpfully to the receptionist. I can see his fake, innocent smile from the corner of my eye.

The secretary squirms for another minute, making me concerned for her bladder. I can’t help the look of disbelief I give her. Read the room, lady. There’s nothing but bad vibes and egotistical pigs in here. Save yourself.

When she leaves, she closes the door softly behind her, and nerves try to take me over.

I’m alone in a room full of guys, two of whom hate me openly. Most of them are staring at me hard enough to make me feel sunburned. How could this go wrong?

Why couldn’t all of them not be hot? There’s nowhere safe for me to look except for the desk, but I can’t because all I can think about is whether or not I could fit under there. It seems big enough. Hopefully my fidgeting doesn’t look like I need to pee.

There are fancy paintings on the walls. The glasses at the bar look like a professional should be back there doing tricks with alcohol bottles. All spotless, and I doubt any of these assholes have something to do with that. It has to be a maid. I wonder if that has decent pay. The weird thing is there are no alcohol bottles. There’s a mini fridge filled with tea and sodas. It must be Cade and Jake’s. I can’t see the other three lowering themselves for carbonation unless it’s sparkling water.

Time passes. The only sound is the quiet shuffle of papers, the sweep of a pen, and my breathing. I try my best to stay still, but I end up fidgeting a lot and looking around the spacious area, judging everything I see. No one speaks because the boogie man hasn’t stopped looking at the pile of paper in front of him. I might as well be a painting myself.

An indeterminable amount of time passes with a lot of glaring at me. A quick peek at my watch makes my eyes widen in surprise. I’ve been standing here for over an hour, trying to hold still. My feet started screaming at me in discomfort long before the time check. I can feel the blisters coming up.

A look at all the people around me shows they’re still watching me with various versions of scowls. This is ridiculous. How long does it take to fire someone? I could have already dropped off three resumes by now. This is some kind of stupid powerplay, and I don’t have to put up with it.

The weight of their stares pile up until I’m done with this, too. The pressure release on my temper suddenly breaks off, and it’s all hands on deck to douche canoe island.

I hold a fist up to my mouth and start coughing as obnoxiously as I can.

The paper shuffling stops. It’s like my interference in the natural jackass order of the room has sucked all of the air out as their stares get more intense.

“Is there a problem, miss…”

He doesn’t even know who he’s firing today? His receptionist said my name when we came in. What an ass.

“Actually, yes.” My eyes narrow on him as I wobble in my heels. I no longer care if he remains clueless about my name. I don’t bother to use the fake sweet voice.

“And that would be?” Mr. Matthias leans back in his chair, carefully setting his pen down to give me the coldest look. His eyes are amber-colored and warm, that expression doesn’t belong anywhere near that honey color and his warm skin tone. He should come with a hypothermia warning. The exotic slant of his cheekbones and sharp jawline turn him from handsome to flawless. His stare of disdain is a cross between Mr. Broussard and the gray-eyed guy in class.

Yup. Beautiful rich asshole dead ahead. Fuck them and their high-handed bullshit.

“I’d like for you to get on with the whole, thanks for nothing, you’re fired thing so I can take these damn shoes off. They’re killing me.”

The scruffy guy starts smiling. With a blatant sweep of his tongue, his toothpick shifts to the other side of his mouth. It’s distracting, given all the perverted thoughts that flood my mind.

“And why does this guy get to wear casual clothes?” I frown, trying to get back on track and failing. Scruffy’s smile widens in a predatory way that makes me rethink making snarky remarks about him specifically.

“Why would I be firing you?” Mr. Matthias props his chin in his hand and watches me with a cold stare.

“At this point, who cares? Just get on with it,” I slap my thighs in frustration. “If I had known I was going to be standing here all day waiting, I would have worn tennis shoes. You could have phoned this in and let me walk away without all this drama. And the menacing stares areoverkill. This scene needs recasting.”

I pointedly look at the mountain of man but he doesn’t react. At least Cade is staring at me with wide-eyed disbelief.

Mr. Matthias narrows his eyes on me. It has an unsettling effect that makes me question my life choices. Mainly the choice to be an ass to him.

“You do understand that your poor attitude doesn’t reflect well on you,” he points out with a raised brow. “It’s a bit too childish for my tastes.”

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” I deadpan back with a flat expression. “However can I make amends.”

“Why not take a moment to calm down. Have a seat,” he gestures to the chairs across from him and ducks his head to stare at the pages in front of him again.

I grind my teeth in frustration, baring them in a snarl he can’t see. Jake starts chuckling as the scruffy guy slowly straightens. Even the mountain guy looks uneasy at my expression. The vulnerable top of the boss’ head is the focus of all my aggression.

Every ounce of attraction I had rushes away like low tide. This is a play for them to mock me. My days are rough enough without the added angst. These assholes messed with the wrong anger issues today.

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