Page 32 of When Sinners Fall
I enter and close the door behind me.
“Louisa. Good morning. I’ve been informed that we have a potential problem, and I’d like to assure you that Iwillhandle this.”
She doesn’t look up from her computer. “I know you’ll handle it. And you’ll make yourself available to your top-tier clients whenever they wish.” Her voice is smooth and calm.
“Excuse me?”
She finally looks at me as she leans back in her white leather chair and crosses her arms. "Ms Addison is a client who will undoubtedly cause no end of problems and bad word of mouth if you don’t handle this and give her what she wants. She is your top client, and if making yourself available twenty-four-seven is what that takes, then you will do that.” She nails me with a steely glare, but I’m in no mood to accept that bullshit.
“No,” I state flatly and watch as her face contorts into some sort of disgruntled frown.
“What?”
“You heard me.” However, I start to inwardly panic. “I am not some naïve or inexperienced wedding planner. I am damn good at my job, or you wouldn’t have hired me. Now,” I take another breath. “I will work my ass off for all my brides to deliver them the picture-perfect wedding of their dreams, but I will not be treated like a slave to some ego-inflated Bridezilla who thinks she knows better or insists on having me on call. That is not my job, and I will never agree to that. When we are in the final weeks for a wedding, my availability will, of course, change to ensure that everything is delivered with the signature Louisa Sage mark.” I put her name in quote marks and smile. “But I am not prepared to put my life on hold for a bride whose wedding isn’t for another year. If you have a problem with my work or my attitude towards that, then I suggest I find employment elsewhere.”
I cross my arms and wait for her reply.
My heart races at the thought of what I just did. Potential career suicide springs to mind, but at the same time, well…
“I see.”
My foot itches to tap or run away, and the slight headache is now raging against my skull. Dante. This is his fault. I’d have never snapped like this if I was thinking straight. Or wasn’t in my own version of a fantasy hangover.
“Well. I can’t fault your work, and you are an asset to the business. It seems that it might be wise to let you handle your clients as you see fit.” Louisa turns back to her computer. “But, this is your one and only warning. If your approach backfires, you’re out.”
“Understood. And it won’t.”
I leave and do my best not to take my bad mood out on the door as I close it, but as I sit down at my desk in a huff, I wince immediately. The warm pain is a reminder of what Dante did to my ass. And whilst I try to keep my attention on any of the jobs on my to-do list, all I can focus on are the questions and thoughts stirred from last night’s activities. It’s distracting and unlike any situation I’ve faced. A man, or indeed any relationship, has never interfered with work before, or more specifically, there’s never been the same level of interest that has meant I’m distracted to this point.
“She’s here. Coke or coffee still?” Penny asks as she stands hovering at the side of my desk.
“Coffee, thank you.” I stare at the second arrangement of black flowers I’ve had delivered, remember why I’m here and that I’m damn good at my job, and prepare to draw some serious boundaries for Ms Addison.
~
After the showdown that was me listening to what Ms Addison found so important she had to tell me at gone ten at night, and then listening to her rave on and on about needing to have people she could trust to pull together the biggest day in her life, I threatened to drop her as a client. I couldn’t take her whining and self-entitled crap. And maybe that was in part due to my lack of sleep and because I was struggling to keep my concentration, but hell, it felt good.
When I gave her the ultimatum, she soon shut up. I told her that I would never be at her beck and call as she was expecting, and that she had the right to find another planner, but she’d never find one as good as me to put up with her crap.
It felt good for a few minutes.
And then I had to get on with actual work.
To make up for the lack of concentration and for being late this morning, I stay a little later at work. A part of me wonders if Dante will still stalk me home or if the new dimension to our relationship will prove all the thrill I need.
Thrill… that’s one word for what happened last night.
Honestly, it was way past any feeling of comfort. So in one way, he fulfilled my want to see the darker side of, well, sex. I'm just having a difficult time understanding where my own boundaries are because when Dante commands me – when he takes control – well, I certainly disintegrate on the spot. I become someone else. It feeds a part of me, like the sex with a stranger fantasy, and that’s a big thing to get my head around.
My phone buzzing startles me, but the name on the screen makes me smile.
“Hey, you.” The fact that I’m this happy he’s called should be a huge red flag.
“I’ll pick you up at ten.”
“Tonight? What are we doing?” I ask, already feeling caught between what I want to do and what I should do. Knowing I’m likely to get little sleep again and will need to spend a day in bed, judging by how I feel now, is not great for work mode.
"Does it matter?”
