“Everyone get the fuck out!” Her voice starts to edge toward shrill, and I track movement past the glass where a few heads pop up over cubicles.
I turn toward Riale and Axel, tipping my chin to signal them to get lost and take the assistant with them.
Melissa, Riale, and Axel file out of the room, and I follow them to the door, shutting it with near silence.
Shae groans and pulls back the chair at the head of the table. With a shuddering breath, she drops her head into her hands with her elbows on the glossy surface.
It takes her ten full seconds to look up, and she jumps, then scowls, when she realizes I didn’t go with the others.
“That demand included you, too, Storm,” she snaps. And I spread my hands out, signaling I come in peace.
Well…something like that. Thinking about Lakeland and all the shit he’s dragged Shae into has the burn in my chest starting up again.
I reach the chair nearest her, and she bites her lip as if she wants to stop herself from strangling me with her words.
“You and I need to talk. It’s serious,” I say. When a flicker of something—fear?—passes over her face, I feel like setting shit on fire.
“You don’t have to be scared, Shae, but there are things happening, and you need to be aware of them. I’ll fix it, though, if you’ll work with me.”
Her laugh starts out small, just a humored hum that turns into a hacking cackle. She rolls back from the table, bending over at the waist to catch her breath with her head between her pantsuit-clad legs.
“Whew!” she shouts, sitting back up so fast that her straight hair whips across her face and some of the strands stick to her glossy red lips.
“You’re gonna fix ‘it.’ Storm? Really. How kind of you!” She wipes beneath her eyes, catching the dark-tinted moisture pooling above her cheeks. “You’re a fucking joke. Get out of my office.”
I inhale slowly to the count of three and exhale to the same cadence. She’s upset, and understandably so, and I need to stay calm here.
Especially since she isn’t calm.
“Sweetness—”
“Do you have a fucking death wish? Melissa!” She shouts for her assistant and then growls, pressing against her temples. “Fuck, I fired Melissa. Goddamn it, I fucking fired Melissa.”
She mutters to herself with her eyes closed and the skin on her face gripped between her fingers.
“Shae.”
“Why…are you…still…here?” she murmurs, still with her eyes closed, as if shutting me out of her field of vision can make me go away. “What business or information could you possibly need to talk to me about?”
At that, her head snaps up, her eyes wide. There goes that fearful look again. She opens her mouth and closes it a few times before I speak.
My heart kicks against my ribs when her fear shifts into something sharper—rage burning through her confusion like gasoline poured onto dry brush.
I barely register the movement before she lunges, her hand slicing through the air, aiming straight for my face.
This time, I'm ready.
I catch her wrist mid-flight, holding her small, furious hand inches from my jaw.
For a moment, we just…breathe.
Her chest rises and falls with each shallow inhale, her wrist flexing in my grasp like she’s deciding whether to fight or surrender.
God, she's beautiful.
Before she can wrench away, I lift her wrist closer, dragging in her scent like a man starved.
Citrus fruit and honey with a hint of smoke.