Chapter 14 Chapter 14
Roman's POV
"This is a YOU problem, Roman." Her voice echoed, "Your insecurities not mine. You're ashamed of your business, ashamed of Oxygen. I'm not a coward, you're a whiny. A weak little pussy, ashamed of his own creation!"
The door banged in my ears, my jaw tight as I drowned my glass. Again. Third one in a row after that sharp mouthed woman banged my door and left.
"The nerves she has," I muttered, "The nerves to shut my door like that. Does this place look like Boldlines to her? Her house? Where she gets to do whatever??"
"Err, she didn't shut it, boss. I did." Jordan corrected, opening his mouth despite seeing the mood I was in. "She threw the door open and left. Didn't shut it."
Don't you think I know that?
I turned to him, scowling. "Just said to add that there. That's all." He cleared his throat, eyes front.
Right. Like I didn't watch it all happen before my own two eyes.
I tore my stare away from him and back to my drink. Wanting another sip before my eyes fell traitorously on the spot not too far from my desk, where she'd stood. In those bright gold heels. Legs covered like a mattress in lace garter tights. Transparent and teasing with smooth fair skin anyone would be surprised was underneath all that dark colours she wore everyday.
A black matching bodysuit, revealing her blessed chest. Each cup full and evidently having the capacity to overspill, reveal more than she was letting on. The outline of her curves in the outfit would be obvious to even the blind. And when she turned to storm out, I received an interesting back view that reminded me just how soft she was waist down.
Of course she looked nothing like she did before. Bigger now, but in so many good ways. Wicked ways that wouldn't let you turn away from her easily. Still her height remained. A perfect 5'3. Enough to easily spot in a crowd and good enough to lift her when you wanted to.
I still remembered doing that. But all that, she had to open her mouth. Not even allowing me appreciate my money's worth on her body. I could spot the gold insignia on her neck. Oxygen's brand. My brand.
A spin would've been nice. But instead of doing that, her mouth spat fire on first draw. Instantly disrupting the peace of the night. She walked in looking like sin dressed for a fight.
But I should've known, nothing would go well after she stood like she owned the room. Asking cock-hungry reporter to leave. Not like I minded that, but her calling me names, disrespecting my business and throwing whatever weight she has around was uncalled for!
At least I focused on her problems. Not created imaginary ones to boost my ego. She was a coward, that's a fact!
A self deluding coward! Her response tonight just proved it, no matter what she said.
"Boss, you okay?" Jordan came again, "You know we can-
"Perfect," I gritted, "I'm perfect."
"Boss,"
"She called me a pussy," I spat, the word distasteful even on my own tongue. Jordan's knickers unable to hide.
"I cannot believe... She's got some nerves"
"Yes she does." He concurred, "I've never heard anyone call you that. Called you anything. A pussy?"
The more I thought of it, the more pissed I became. And the more pissed I was, the more pissed I was at the fact that I was pissed.
Why was I letting her affect me? Her words?
They meant nothing. Just a measley excuse to crawl her way out of the office after hearing the truth face fist. It was probably her last attempt to hold back from crying. Reason why she left after speaking.
So why was I letting it get to me in the first place?
"She went too far," Jordan said, filling my glass back up. My hand reaching for it again, sipping this time. My gaze dark, replaying it all in my head.
"Where are those other copies she brought over last time?" I asked him, "Bring them all out."
He moved. Pulling them out from a folder, the familiar paperwork coming into view. I took it from him and began checking again. Sure enough it was still same issue. Too much poetry, soft, like she was trying to somehow change the program. Change Oxygen, the new section inside of Oxygen instead of going with the flow and getting intoxicated by all of it.
Like normal people do.
Thinking about it now, somehow it seemed that her white dress that day was not coincidental at all. It was simply a deliberate act. A defiance.
She came here to defy me. My structure. Tonight was just another proof, and I'll be damned if I let her.
Someone has to show her who's the boss here. She had no right to do whatever she felt like without my permission, speak to me rudely or make nonsensical assumptions about me.
Did she think she was free to speak? Say whatever? Think I was some past rebound now to give her a free pass? Think I wouldn't fire her?!
She had another thing coming. That ship sailed 5 years ago and is not coming back. She had to know that.
Hence, "J," I called, sitting up and shutting her stupid folder. "Draft new restrictions for the Seraph project.”
"Restrictions, Boss?”
“Budget cap, timelines, everything." I explained. “I want every update to go through me first. Nothing moves without my approval. She moves, report back to me."
“But that’s going to slow things down." He said, confused, "She won't like it.”
“Good,” I said instead, smirking. That's what I want. Things she wouldn't like.
I only cancelled her concept and she came to throw tantrums, how about when every other thing I didn't talk about gets held up because she's incapable of drafting a common concept?
Now that's an expression I want to see on her face. Let's see what else that stubborn mouth has to spill. I'll send her right back to Boldlines in the blink of an eye! Sue for damages.
She doesn't who she's dealing with yet. I'll show her.
"Have everything adjusted and emailed to her. We should start up the other processes for the section, I want everything starting by Monday."
"And she's to do all this that same day? Week? Boss, you're pushing it a little. Don't you think?"
“If she wants to work here, she’ll play by my rules then. She has complaints? All I hear
she's incapable and inefficient. Issues like have ways to be handled, don't they?"
You want to complain some more and bang my doors, Alina?
Be my guest.