Chapter 14 Crashing Out
I know the numbers. I've seen the decks.
But standing here under Reginald's expectant stare and Lawrence's death glare, everything suddenly jumbles up in my head.
I can already feel him getting off the stage and moving through the crowd.
"Sir," I try again. "I believe Mr Moore's vision for…"
Lawrence reaches us in seconds, sliding an arm around my waist with casual possession. But it feels anything but casual.
I can sense the anger in his hold.
"Reggie," he greets, "Good to see you again. I see you've met my better half."
He gives my waist a little squeeze.
Mr Swan brightens. "Lawrence."
"Forgive the interruption, I could tell Miss Thorn was momentarily distracted."
Reginald chuckles. "Understandable. It's a busy night."
Lawrence glances at me, "I believe she meant to say that you'd be wise to secure your seat at the table while there's still room. But you already know that, Reggie."
He forces a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "You didn't get to where you are by missing opportunities. This one's not going to wait forever."
Reginald guffaws. "Still impatient."
"Still rich." He tilts his head. "Funny how that works."
Swan shakes his head. "How'd you even hear from over there?" he asks in stupefaction.
Lawrence lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug. "Lip-reading, Reggie. You have very expressive enunciation."
Swan throws his head back and laughs, then claps Lawrence on the upper arm.
"You're not human, Moore," he says, still chuckling.
Lawrence smiles, continuing, "You wanted to know why you should get in on this. I'll have the term sheet on your desk by nine. First look. Before anyone else sees it."
Mr Swan nods, his eyes shining with respect. "That's what I like to hear from you, Moore. Always prepared."
Lawrence gives a polite tilt of his head.
"I'll expect the package by nine. Good speech, by the way"
"Thank you. Enjoy the rest of the night."
Mr Swan nods, then saunters off.
The second he's out of earshot, Lawrence drops his hand from my back and exhales before facing me.
I finish the rest of his champagne and don't look at him.
"You were struggling," he hisses, studying me with that calm look.
I don't respond or look at him. I'm too tired and embarrassed.
Too fed up with his constant complaints.
"Try not to freeze when spoken to. It reflects poorly," he continues. "You're my secretary. Your performance influences how my leadership is perceived."
"I need some air," I mutter, ignoring the look of anger and surprise on his face as I turn to walk away without permission.
It might get me fired, but I'm too mentally and emotionally exhausted to care at this point.
I slip through the back exit and push open the exterior door.
Silence and cool night air immediately rush over me, the relief instant.
There's no paparazzi or valets here in the courtyard. It's peaceful and blessedly still.
Taking in deep breaths, I press my palms to my cheeks, trying to decide whether to cry or call an Uber and never come back.
The metal door swings open behind me, and Lawrence saunters in my direction, his tuxedo now slung over one arm.
"How dare you walk out on me in the middle of an event?" he asks angrily, stopping a few feet from me.
I remain quiet, but I feel myself seconds away from crashing out.
Lawrence steps an inch closer, looking down at me. "You must really want that sack letter badly."
"What did I ever do to you?" The words come out in a whisper.
"Excuse me?"
"What did I ever do to you to deserve this?" I repeat, glancing up at him. "Why do you treat me this harshly? Do I… do I look like an ex? Why do you hate me this much?"
Lawrence scoffs in disbelief. "An ex? Christ, no. My standards never sink that low."
I don't flinch at the insult.
He gracefully throws the tux jacket over his shoulder and crosses his arms. "Miss Thorn, I'll have you know that I treat you this way because you are unprepared half the time. Not because of anything personal," he ventures coolly.
I laugh dryly. "'Unprepared?'" My eyes sting with hurt. "I rearrange your entire schedule on command, Mr Moore. Sometimes I anticipate your needs before you say them. But you don't see any of it. You only see the tiny things I get wrong."
His jaw ticks.
"You scolded me over a barely visible stain… and it wasn't even my fault. You cut me off in front of Mr Swan like I'm an idiot child." My voice nearly cracks, but I quickly recover.
"I knew what to say. Maybe I hesitated a little, maybe I was nervous because we all know who Mr Swan is, but I knew it."
I'm gripping my dress hard as I speak. "You treat me like I'm nothing."
"You're not competent enough to be treated any other way!" Lawrence snaps. "Sometimes I genuinely wonder how you even got this job."
Something inside me breaks.
"I am competent!" I shout, my voice lashing through the courtyard.
"I'm fucking good at my job! You're the one who's impossible! You're a goddamn perfectionist!"
His eyes grow even colder. "I am not a perfectionist," he says icily. "I have standards."
"Standards no human can meet!" I laugh wildly. Furiously. "Sending me twelve floors down because the foam was half an inch too high, does that count as a standard?" I throw my hands in the air.
"Don't be dramatic, you took the elevator."
"Making me rewrite a forty-page investor deck because I used an en dash instead of an em dash? Telling me every single thing I do is 'disappointing'?"
I turn away from him, then spin around again. "You want to know how I got this job, Mr Moore?" I jab a finger at his chest, but it doesn't make contact. "I was the best candidate in a pool of two hundred. I am the best damn assistant that New York branch has ever had, and you know it."
Lawrence unfolds his arms. He steps forward, closing the space between us until the tip of my finger is an inch from his lapel, and I can feel the heat coming off him.
"The best?" His voice is dangerously low. "The best doesn't forget her place. The best doesn't abandon her post to let Kieran Black hold and touch her on a dance floor while half the investment community watches."
I laugh bitterly in disbelief. "My place? You mean two feet behind you?"
"Your place," he growls, leaning in until I have to tip my head back to hold his stare, "is representing this company. Not flirting with a man who once stole my client."
"First off, I didn't know that. Secondly, flirting?" I scoff. "He asked me to dance. I said yes. For a few minutes, I got to feel like a human being instead of an accessory. Sue me."
His green eyes flash. "Three minutes is all it takes for rumours to start. Three minutes is all it takes for someone to decide Law & Moore can't control its own people."
"Oh, please," I snap. "The only person who looked out of control tonight was you, storming over like a jealous…"
I stop when I realise what just slipped.
Lawrence goes very, very still.
"Finish that sentence, Miss Thorn," he says in a voice that raises every hair on my arms. "I dare you."