Page 19 of Tempt Me

The man sitting next to her leaped to his feet. “You know what? I quit.”

Jamila lifted her arm and stared at him. “You what?”

“I quit. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

Jamila leveled a glare at him. “You’re the chief marketing officer. I’m not asking you to do anything but market the goddamn apps.”

His pitch rose. “How can I sell apps in this environment?” He waved an arm at the news vans. “This job has completely unbalanced my chakras. I need to go home and watch a nature video.” He turned on the toe of his Italian loafer and stormed out of the office. The two employees in the middle of the room scuttled out after him.

The CFO stood.

“Not you too,” Jamila said in a low voice.

Hope snorted. “You think I’d quit over this? I started my career at Enron. This is a walk in the park compared to that shitshow. I’ll be more useful to you in my office. I’ll send you a summary of the financial coverage and its impact on the stock price by the end of the day.”

“Great,” Jamila sighed.

As Hope walked out, Rhiannon walked in wearing khakis and another blue shirt, this one long-sleeved. She strode behind Jamila’s desk, crossed her arms, and cocked her hip. “I need your approval on that job requisition I sent you an hour ago.”

Jamila shoved her computer mouse, which sent it skidding across the desk. “How the fuck am I supposed to keep up with email? Look at that shit.” She gestured at her screen.

Rhiannon pursed her lips. “That’s why you’re paid the big bucks, boss.” Bending over the desk, she scrolled and clicked. “That’s the one. Approve, please.”

Jamila winced as she stared blearily at the screen. “Two contract developers? You really think that’ll help right now?”

“With this much distraction, we need all the help we can get. We won’t make our date without them. I’ve got grunt work they can do to free up other folks.” She straightened the cuffs of her chambray shirt.

The video came blasting back in my memory.

“You were the one who kept her from throwing that punch!”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Natalie?” Jamila blinked liked I was an apparition come to haunt her on her worst day. “I wouldn’t have punched that asshat. He wasn’t worth ruining my manicure.” She held out a hand and examined her short, shimmery blue nails.

I caught Rhiannon’s eye. “Thanks for that.”

“Someone needed to do something,” Rhiannon said. “Hey, you should pay me to do PR. I don’t need some designer suit to save you from those jackals—or yourself.”

The hairs rose on the back of my neck, and my nails dug into my palms.

“I told you,” Jamila said, “I didn’t need saving. I had it under control.”

Rhiannon snorted. “Looked like you did. Where was Miss Fancy Suit when you went off on that guy?” She tossed her curly hair.

I straightened my suit coat. I didn’t care if she had saved Jamila from an even bigger PR disaster. Rhiannon was not a nice person.

“I came to help,” I said.

“Help? You?” Rhiannon scanned my outfit until I started to rethink the bold red blouse. “Be careful, you might chip a nail.”

I flexed my hands. “I’m capable of helping. I have a plan.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rhiannon crossed her arms and cocked a hip. “Let’s hear it.”

“Ree.” Jamila muttered something I couldn’t hear, but it made Rhiannon curl her lip at me and stride out of the office.

When Jamila lifted her eyes to me, they were bloodshot and puffy. Was that from today? Had she slept last night? I opened my mouth to ask, but she spoke first.

“Nat, today is not the day for you to come flouncing in here to try out your hobby of the week. Go on home. We’ll talk next week after this is all over.”

---