Mixed Up(50)

Just days ago she'd told me never to undermine her, yet she'd done that to me in front of her staff. I didn't give a shit if she owned the entire town-she was in my kitchen. There was one boss in my kitchen and that was me.

Nine-thirty meeting in her office.

Raven Archer had one hell of a shock coming to her tonight.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Raven





I paced back and forth in my office.

The anger that flowed through my veins was of another level. I was fuming-beyond anything I'd felt in a long time. It crawled over my skin with the vengeance of a pack of hungry leeches, and it sure as hell felt like it was sucking the life out of me.

The more I paced, the angrier I got. But I needed to pace. I needed to be angry. Being angry with Parker was easier than the alternative. If I was angry with him, there would be no chance of slipping up and kissing him again.

Slapping him, yes. Not kissing him.

I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I hadn't expected any of this to happen when I'd hired him. I hadn't expected to find respect for him or be as attracted to him as I was.

I couldn't even pin that as the root of my anger. The way I felt wasn't his fault, even if it was because of the way he was. I was the one who had little to no control over my feelings. I was the one who had a wild inability to stop myself wanting him whenever I glanced in his direction.

I didn't want to want him.

I wanted to forget that I'd ever had his lips on mine. I wanted to forget every time he'd ever touched me.

I wanted to go back to three weeks ago, before he'd come home, when he was still the barest whisper of a memory.

I preferred it when he was a memory instead of every living second.

Four knocks rattled my closed door. They jolted me out of my thoughts and back to the here and now.

Was it already nine-thirty? Impossible. I hadn't been in here much more than five minutes.

I picked up my phone from the desk and checked the time. Nine-fifty. I'd been in here for half an hour, and the bastard had the gall to show up late.

Twenty minutes late sure, but twenty minutes was twenty minutes. Did he get a kick out of pissing me off? There was no other reason for him to be here twenty minutes late when all he had to do was walk across the damn bar. He could have at least sent Vicky or Alec in to see me and let me know he was still busy.

Not that it was busy. It'd been two hours since he'd dragged me into the kitchen and been a dick to me.

Why the hell was I so damn annoyed still?

More knocks sounded at my door.

I knew it was him. That loud rap his knuckles made against the wood were so distinct to him. I didn't know how it was possible to tell who it was by something as simple as a knock, but I could and I did. It was one of those weird things, I guessed.

More knocks.

I was going to make him wait. It was petty, but I had a point to make. If he wanted to make me wait, I'd make him wait, too.

Never mind that I had no idea he was late until he'd knocked.

Parker knocked three more times. This time each one was louder and stronger than the previous, so I finally made my way to the door and opened it.

"Oh, sorry," I said, cutting him off before he could speak. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"I was working," he shot back, following me inside my office. "You were just being fucking awkward."

"Watch your mouth."

He opened it. Then, he snapped it shut again. Whether he was actually doing as I said or was closing it to save the ranting for later, I didn't know.



       
         
       
        

"Sit down." I pointed to the chair on the other side of my desk. When he didn't move, I said more firmly, "Sit. Down."

He dragged it back and dropped onto it with the petulance of a child.

Now, I knew he was doing it to piss me off.

"Let's get something straight." I gripped the edge of my desk and leaned forward, hooking one of my feet behind the other. My gaze was trained steadily on his, and no matter how much ire his bright eyes glared at me, I wouldn't back down from him. "When you're at work, you will treat me with respect and you will understand that, even if you need me, I don't exist to pander to your every beck and call. If you need me, fine, but you wait. I'm doing my own job and that doesn't involve handling your shit."

He opened his mouth again and I held up one finger.

"And you do not ever demand that I call you something in front of other members of staff. I don't give a fuck what they did in New York. This is Whiskey fucking Key, not New York freakin' City. If you want to be called, then you use a little thing called respect and you ask. You don't blatantly call me on something in front of the people I pay."