“Yes. I’m totally in. One hundred percent.” Her voice grew with excitement, and it was understandable why. Skyler was adorable, and I knew Sadie loved being a mom, but I couldn’t imagine not going out for three months and being cooped up in the house like that.
“Eight o’clock, Friday night. I’ll even drive so you can get as wasted as you want,” I offered with a laugh.
A happy sigh filled my ear. “Pump ’n’ dump, baby! This is why I love you.”
The next morning I woke up early and threw myself together as quickly as I could to try to beat everyone else to the office. I cautiously opened the door to our suite and was relieved to see the lights still off. Since the day I quit representing Cole Woods after the incident in my office, the atmosphere at work had shifted so quickly and so sharply that coming in wasn’t fun anymore. I loved my job, but being in that office made every muscle in my body tense up.
I opened the door to my small office and set my lunch bag and purse on my desk, wasting no time as I fired up my computer. I wanted to get a few résumés out before either of the Leighton brothers came in. It was no secret that working together had grown uncomfortable, but I didn’t want them to have any clue I was going to be leaving until I had another job already lined up.
“You’re in early.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was peeking around the door frame with a smile on his face.
“Hey. Yeah, I had a few contracts to look over, and since I left early yesterday, I thought I’d get an early start today.” I pressed my lips together and gave him a tight smile back, faking it the best I could.
“Speaking of that, how’s your dad feeling?”
“Oh, he’s better. Much better. Thanks for asking.” For a fleeting second I felt bad, lying about my dad to leave early for a job interview, but my dad was the one who taught me that it’s a dog-eat-dog world and you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. I leaned my chin on my fist, turning my attention to my computer, hoping that he’d get the hint that I was busy and walk away.
“I’m actually glad to see you here alone, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” He took a step into my office and leaned against the door frame, his large body taking up the whole doorway. Jack was only in his midforties, a couple of years younger than his brother, John, but his dark hair was already graying around his temples, and his eyes always had bags under them. This job definitely was not easy. “Did you get a chance to think any more about what John said to you? About calling Cole Woods and apologizing? Try to get him back on your roster?”
Without looking up from my computer, I answered, “You mean did I think any more about allowing a client to sexually harass me? No, I didn’t.”
“Danicka.” Jack sighed as he stepped into my office and dropped himself in the chair across from my desk. “It’s not about allowing yourself to be harassed, it’s about being a team player.”
I blinked hard and slid my eyes from my computer to him. “And you think being a team player means letting a man make constant remarks about my breasts and ass?”
“No, I don’t think that at all.” He shook his head as he lied through his teeth. “But Cole is a big name and a huge contract. John called him and tried to get him on with another agent, but he only wants you. He was adamant.”
“You do realize that actually makes it worse, right?” I was being condescending at that point, but I didn’t care anymore.
“It’s not worse, it’s flattering.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to my computer. “Jack, I’m not about to let some guy run his mouth and say disgusting things to me so that you guys can feel powerful with him under your label. It’s not happening, and I’m not discussing it anymore. Frankly, just knowing that you’d still be willing to keep him on as a client after that day is repulsive. So much for having your agent’s back, huh?”
Jack closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands. “Fine.” He stood quickly. “I can’t argue about this now. It’s too early in the day.” After he left my office, I walked over and shut my door . . . hard.
On a scale of one to ten, my frustration level was at a forty-nine. I was so angry and hurt that instead of supporting me, like they should be doing, they were asking me to basically put up with the asshole’s behavior so they could make a buck and keep a high-profile name.
I grabbed my phone and texted Sadie.
Friday . . . Screw eight o’clock. Make it six.