Page 2 of A Forbidden Spring
“Where is…” Merrick’s voice trails off as he stops in the doorway, his brow pinched in confusion.
“Surprise!” Astrid says with a beaming smile and a low-key version of jazz hands. “We wanted toofficiallywelcome you to Wintervale and Mountain Side! We didn’t know what you liked so we got a little bit of everything!”
The seconds feel like hours as they tick by, his face morphing into something colder as he scans the room. The table is covered with cupcakes, fruit, mini cheesecakes, chocolate-covered strawberries, and a coffee bar that had been my idea because—caffeine.
His gaze doubles back over the food, a flicker of something in his expression I can’t quite name that has me narrowing my eyes at him. The papers in his hands crinkle as his spine straightens. “See that this gets cleaned up before everyone leaves.”
The words are gruff before he turns on his heel and leaves the room.
Astrid’s face falls, her eyes welling with tears as his office door closes with more force than is strictly necessary.
That arrogant fucking bastard.
“I’ll take care of it,” I tell her, her eyes widening as she shakes her head.
“It’s fine and?—”
“It’s not fine, and he owes you an apology.” Her face flames and her eyes water as I give her a tight smile and walk out of the break room.
Stalking down the hall, I pound my fist on the door twice before pushing inside and letting it slam behind me.
“Most people wait after they knock for the other person to respond before barging into a room.” The edge in his voice is low and annoyed.
“And just because you have a dick doesn’t mean you need to act like one,” I bark, crossing my arms and glaring at him.
“Talking like that is a pretty good way to get yourself fired, Miss Sterling,” he says, dropping his pen on the desk and sitting back in his chair.
I smirk. “You could fire me, but you’d lose a hell of a lot of business.”
“Is that right?”
“It is,” I tell him, dropping my arms and bracing my hands on the edge of his desk. “You might have been able to get away with treating people in New York like you did today, but you won’t get away with it here. It doesn’t matter that your name is on our paychecks. If word gets around that you can’t conduct yourself with common fucking decency, you’ll have a hell of a lot more to explain to your daddy than just how much you hate Montana.”
He stares at me, his eyes flashing with anger as he unfolds himself from his chair and mirrors my stance on the other side of the desk.
“And who the fuck do you think you are, coming in here and telling me how to run a business?”
“The one who can make or break your business, Mr. Ellis. If I walk—or worse, if youfire me—all my clients will walk too. And my waitlist. And my daddy has deep pockets. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help me start my own business. We local folk like to support our own.” My expression is saccharine sweet. “You’d be out of a job before summertime. And wouldn’tthatbe a shame.” Pushing myself up, I take a step toward the door, the silence echoing around us.
“I’m allergic to strawberries,” he grits out, the sound making me spin to face him.
“What?”
Merrick stands to his full height and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’mallergicto strawberries. There are EpiPens in my desk drawer.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone?” I ask, disbelieving.
He stares at me, his mouth pressing into a firm line. Merrick Ellis is a harsh kind of beautiful with his chiseled jaw and piercing olive-colored eyes. He’s been nothing but cold since he got here, but the flash of vulnerability in his gaze makes me think there might be more to the man in front of me than he lets on.
“I’ve never had to.”
Scoffing, I roll my eyes, his privilege making me want to gag because of course everyone he encountered justknew.
“Well, that’s your problem, Merrick. Astrid was doing something nice—wewere trying to do something nice. And if you had just told us you have a serious allergy that requires medical intervention, we would have planned accordingly.”
“And the rest of your little rant?” he asks, sliding one hand into the front pocket of his slacks as I reach the door.
“Oh, it’s real,” I tell him, and his head cants ever so slightly to the side, intrigue replacing the anger. “I will burn your life to the ground if you fuck with me or the people I love again.” Pulling the door open, I add, “Have a nice day, Mr. Ellis.”
