Page 27 of The Reluctant Hero

I stretch my neck and square my shoulders. My tongue runs across my teeth as if I’m readying for a hair-pulling brawl in the middle school hallway.

I am a fuckingJefferson. And this little bitch is goingdown.

I flip the script with a sickly sweet voice. My parents would be proud.

“I see you'rereallybusy being a condescending, self-important dick, so I’ll help you out. Thank you for the underpaid job in the stuffy filing room without windows and air ventilation,dickweed. I quit!” I turn the last word into an annoying high-pitched tone before I drop the cheerleader act. “I hope I never see any of you or that damn room ever again. Make better choices and have a great life, everybody.”

He looks up in disbelief, fast enough to see me salute him with a middle finger and a menacing grin before I turn to the door. When I wobble for a second, I brace myself on the wall to yank the heels off one at a time. I’m tempted to throw them in the trash on the way out.

“Stupid egotistical pigs and their I’m the lord of the universe attitudes. I’d rather stuff these damn things down that asshole’s throat than carry them home. Fuck this place,” I snap angrily to myself as I open the door.

“Sitdown.”

The freezing, enraged bark makes me stiffen up and move faster, but it doesn’t stop my mouth. The floodgates have opened, and I don’t care enough to stop them now. If he would shut up, I would stop. It’s on him.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m alreadycalm. Go back to pretending you’re really special because yourdeskis big. I’m sure you’re not overcompensating for anything.”

The receptionist turns to look at me in horror as I slam the door behind me. It muffles the sound of Cade’s full-body laugh.

“The elevator takes a key card,” Jake yells helpfully through the door. I’m not waiting for the following comment. I can fill in the blank for him.

“I know I’m fat! You don’t have to keep reminding me when you see me! And I can make it down the stairs just fine,fuckface,” I call back and keep stomping.

I yank open the stairway door as everything falls silent behind me. Thank god I clocked that one, or I’d still be standing there trying to press the call button for the elevator in a panic. Mr. Matthias’ cold voice is intimidating. Thefreezingvoice isdownright terrifying. As if he needs that when he has four guys hanging around looking ready to break bones and suck the marrow out.

“Dicks. Every single one of them. Fuck this place. And these shoes. The skirt, too. And pantyhose. Who the fuck came up with that torture?”

My anger gets me down two flights before I start flagging.

“This is what letting your rage issues take control gets you, Amanda,” I lecture myself as I pant. “A never-ending stairwell and no job. I hate life so much right now. And these damnshoes!”

I toss them both over my shoulder in a fit of rage and keep stomping. I pause as I take in the fact that I didn’t hear them fall. I turn in confusion and scream at the top of my lungs.

The scruffy guy from Mr. Matthias’ office is already at least four inches taller than me. Being on the step above me means I’m yelling at his lower chest.

“What the hell?” My voice reaches a soprano screech as I take in his delighted grin. What happened to his toothpick?

“Hi, darlin’.”

All speech fails me as my brain goes blank. I just thought the honey voice was bad. This is so much worse. And the accent is swoon-worthy.

Wait, he just scared the hell out of me! No swooning allowed.

“Hi,” my mouth mutters stupidly before I shake my head so my brain will reengage. “I mean, go away! I quit, and I don’t need an escort.”

“You sure?” He raises an eyebrow and leans down to meet my eyes. “You’re bein’ rough on your feet right now. I ain’t a fan of it.”

He stands straight and eyes me. It’s a bit disconcerting because he’s looking at me as if he wants to rip my clothes off. I’ve started getting used to the disgusted looks, so this is a nice change. But a little creepy. We’re the only people on the stairs. He just witnessed me being an out-of-control bitch, and he’s looking at me like that? There’s something wrong with both of us because I’m willing to give him a go.

No!

“Well, they’re my feet, and I can do what I want with them,” I tell him lamely and spin to keep going.

“Slow down, darlin’. It ain’t a race.”

“Maybe it is. Maybe I need to pee. You don’t know.” I’m panicking, and I have no idea what I’m saying.

He chuckles softly behind me. The sound is too erotic for my sanity. I feel a little like I’m being herded somewhere, and it’s starting to make me nervous.

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