Page 22 of The Stranger
I like that he sees what I feel, but I still narrow my eyes at him. “It was pointless. She found out anyway … you know when you insisted Damien come and collect me this morning.”
“Good.”
“Good?” I shriek.
“Yes, good. You work for me now, Miss St. James. She would’ve found out, eventually.”
I would’ve preferred that it was later. You know, before I was accosted by her as I tried to walk out of the house in the only decent outfit I owned.
When I bow my head, I can feel his eyes boring into me. “What happened?”
“Nothing … umm … happened,” I lie.
“Bullshit.”
“What paperwork do we have to go over?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
My eyes snap back to him. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” he growls.
“She was upset, end of story.”
“What. Did. She. Do. Delilah?” he asks, punctuating each word this time.
“It’s no big deal.”
“If she did something to you, it is.”
His eyes are now scanning over me, looking for signs. He won’t find anything because it’s hidden under my jacket.
“Is that the same outfit you wore yesterday?” he asks, and I’m forced to look away.
“I washed the skirt and top last night … I hadn’t planned on wearing the jacket again today.”
His eyes slightly narrow as he barks, “Remove the jacket, Miss St. James.”
I gasp. “What?”
“Do it.”
“Why?”
“Because I told you to.”
“No.”
He blows out a frustrated breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please.”
“Fine,” I huff, standing. “This could be classed as sexual harassment, you know,” I mumble under my breath as I slowly undo the three large black buttons that line the front of the jacket. Once I’m done, I roll my shoulder, letting the right side slide down my arm to reveal the damage Abigail inflicted on my poor blouse as I tried to leave this morning. “Happy now.”
“Your sister did that?”
“It’s only material,” I counter. “It’s not like she ripped my arm off.” Although, I’m pretty sure she tried to do just that.
“Irrelevant. It would still be classed as an assault.”
