Bossy(14)

The intercom buzzes, making me groan in frustration. Speak of the devil.

Again.

It’s like the fifth time since I sat down. How does he expect me to study these documents when he keeps interrupting me every few minutes? The intercom box crackles as he calls me again. It looks and sounds like it’s been here since the building was built.

“Ms. Anderson, may I see you in my office for some dick-tation, please.”

Yeah, he can go to hell.

After a couple of minutes, it buzzes again. “No, seriously, come in here.”

I push the talk button and with my sweetest tone, I reply, “Last I looked, Mr. Riordan, you had a pair of perfectly functioning legs. Sitting too long is bad for your health, so it’s better if you get off your ass to exercise them every once in a while, instead of just flexing your vocal cords. Sir.”

He doesn’t push the button, but I hear his laugh faintly through the door. I’m glad he’s amused by this, at least. Jeez, I can’t believe I’m going to end up related to this guy. And we had sex. Vigorous, mind-blowing sex. Several times. Crap. Even all alone out here, I can’t keep the heat from rushing to my face.

I still don’t regret it, even knowing who he is and what a jerk he can be. That night was exactly what I’d needed to start getting past Michael’s betrayal. So I’m trying to cut myself some slack for getting all hot and bothered about my step-boss even though my illusions about what a great guy he was were crushed pretty hard back in his office. I was in a low spot and he helped me. It’s natural to react to him.

But it can’t happen again, for like eleventy billion reasons.

One of which is crumpled up on my desk.

I glance out the window to the common area. People are moving around, talking and working together. It’s quiet in here, which I guess is good. It helps me concentrate, but I’m isolated. Just me, my documents and a way-too-hot-for-his-own-good jerk with some sort of chip on his shoulder, and who won’t shut up over the intercom. Maybe there’s an off switch somewhere.

I’m still searching for it when he comes out the door.

“Mr. Riordan,” I say sweetly with my biggest, fakest smile.

His cocky smirk widens. “Give it a rest, Claire. Weekly status meeting time. Lesson number one of corporate life: there’s always another meeting. Pull your gorgeous ass out of your chair and come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you can explain what’s up with this case.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “We’re protecting a corporation’s systematic mistreatment of its employees. That can’t possibly be right.”

He arches an eyebrow at me in surprise. “What’s up with it? They hired us to defend them. Money goes out of their accounts.” He wiggles his fingers through the air. “And into ours.” Cocking his head, he gives me an amused look. “Look, we’re not Green-fucking-peace. We need to make a living. Are you backing down already, just because your first case isn’t to your taste?”

“But—But what if we win?” Is money really all he cares about?

“We get paid.” He shrugs. “If you’re looking to be a crusader of morality and all that is good, you picked the wrong profession, babe. I told you this wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe you should have listened.”

I glare at him, but his back’s already to me as he leaves the room. I scramble to catch up. There’s no way I’m letting him make me look bad on my first day. Our discussion’s going to have to wait.

Carl gives me a wink and a nod as we pass his desk, then we head down a corridor past the elevators. Declan glances at his watch and picks up the pace.

The meeting room is packed, and every single eye turns to watch us come in. I’ve never done well with crowds, and the way they’re staring, you’d think I’d just walked in naked. I have to catch myself so I don’t check if I actually did.

Though I’m sure Declan would have told me, a time or ten.

At the head of the table sits Garrett Riordan. In the same room together, it’s obvious he and Declan are father and son. Same black hair, dark blue eyes and broad build. Same impatience. There are only two empty chairs around the large oval table, and he gestures to them. “Try to be on time next time, Declan.” The steel in his deep gravelly voice makes it clear it’s not a suggestion.

“Sorry. Guess the old intercoms aren’t as reliable as I thought.” Declan shrugs while I catch myself before I roll my eyes with everyone watching.

“Alright, let’s get started before we waste more time.” Garrett gets straight to business, just as I remember him. “I’m sure you’ve all heard that Ms. Claire Anderson is joining us for the summer.”