Page 21 of Devilish Bully
“If you add some context to whatever you’re speaking about, that would be great.”
“Your board,” he says. “They asked me to do an interview withTime Magazinein a few weeks.”
“And this is a problem because?”
“Because they want me to lie. To say I’m thrilled about you selling this company down the drain. I’ve held my tongue with you before, but I won’t do this. I won’t help you ruin what I built.”
“I’ll tell them you said no, then,” I say. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You should also tell them you don’t need their stupid ideas about profitability gimmicks. Just focus on being a decent boss and maybe your staff will stop calling you Satan.”
“I don’t care what my staff calls me.”
“Then why do you call me every time it happens?” His jaw tightens. “And why has half this company called me about that 0/10 review?”
“Give me their names so I can ask them that, too.”
“Never. As a matter of fact—” He looks over at Kendall, and his sentence thankfully ends.
“I can, uh, leave,” she says, standing. “I don’t want to intrude on your conversation.”
“No, stay,” my father and I speak in unison, and her cheeks flush red before sitting back down.
“My apologies for not seeing you, Miss.” He walks over to her. “I’m Damon Pearson, Lucian’s father. And you are?”
“Kendall Clarke.” She extends her hand. “Mr. Pearson’s former lead auditor turned temporary help.”
“You have my permission to drop the formalities with him.” He lifts her hand for a swift peck. “If he’s letting you work this close to him, you have to be on a first-name basis, correct?”
She smiles at him, not answering the question.
“Well, don’t let me take up any more of your time,” he says. “I’m sure I’ll see you around again soon.”
Not if I have a conversation with security first…
“Want to walk an old man to the elevator, son?” he asks.
“Gladly.” I pull on my blazer and follow him to the hall.
“Tell me something,” he says, hitting the button. “Since when do you let anyone work alongside you in your office?”
“Brian works with me all the time.”
“From his private office down the hall,” he says. “You hate people in your personal space.”
“That’s exactly why I’m escorting you out.”
“Miss Clarke is still there, though.” A smile spreads across his face. “You like her, don’t you?”
“I don’t.”
“Let me guess—you just discovered she worked under you, and now you can’t stop thinking about her? You’re trying to make sure she doesn’t leave your sight.”
“That would be classified as kidnapping.”
“Or it’s a possessive man who has no idea how to ask her on a date.”
“Miss Clarke is just an employee.” I hit the down button, hoping it’ll make his disappearance come sooner. “She’s helping me out with the ‘stupid thing’ you and I aren’t supposed to discuss.”
