Fall Into You (Morally Gray, #2)(25)
So the person is a she. I never know the gender of the candidates Sally sends over because she replaces their names on their resumes with a number to avoid discrimination in hiring practices.
But I’d never discriminate based on something as arbitrary as gender. Or race, religion, age, appearance, sexual orientation, or disability for that matter. Or anything else.
The only thing that matters to me is competency.
Coming in a close second is punctuality. If you’re supposed to be somewhere at a certain time but you’re not, you can’t be trusted.
Period. End of story.
I make a mental note to call Sally later this afternoon and voice my displeasure that she’d send me such an untrustworthy candidate. Right after that, I’ll tell Sally she’s fired.
And so is the new hire.
I call out to the door, “I’m in the middle of something,” then turn my attention back to my work.
That lasts for all of ten seconds, until I hear a sound that sizzles through me like a jolt of electricity.
A laugh.
A female laugh.
Her laugh.
But it can’t be. No, I’m imagining it. There’s no way the unforgettable green-eyed woman is in this building. She’s not standing outside my door. She’s a memory I’ve clung to for reasons I don’t want to examine, and my imagination is playing tricks on me.
Just to be sure, I push back my chair, stride over to the door, and yank it open.
There beside the meek receptionist stands Shay.
That Shay. My Shay. The ghost who’s been haunting me for weeks now stands there in the flesh.
She turns her head and meets my gaze, instantly electrocuting me.
And because my heart is pounding and the blood in my veins has turned to fire and my chest is being crushed by an invisible weight, I do the only thing I’m capable of doing other than pulling her into my arms.
I scowl at her and thunder, “What the hell are you doing here?”
The receptionist nearly faints in terror. Pale, shaking, and wide-eyed, she presses a hand over her mouth and shrinks back.
But if Shay is as surprised to see me as I am to see her, she doesn’t show it. If she’s taken aback by my question or the volume at which I asked it, she doesn’t react. She merely looks me up and down and sends me a faint, derisive smile.
“I’m reporting for work…boss.”
Never in the history of mankind has a sentence been spoken with such disdain.
It couldn’t be more obvious that I’m the only one with fond memories of the night we shared together. Judging by her expression and tone of voice, Shay regards me in the same way she might regard a cockroach who wandered across her dinner plate.
With utter disgust.
Fuck.
The last time I felt this bad, I had a bullet lodged in my gut.
Shay
I should’ve known this job was too good to be true. I should’ve known it was all a setup.
Life only gives me a big win right before it kicks me in the teeth.
The morning started great. Riding high on a wave of excitement, I gave myself plenty of time to drive downtown, park, and check in with security. A lovely woman from human resources named Ruth met me in the vast, sparkling lobby of the McCord Media building and accompanied me to the elevator that would take us to the executive suites on the twenty-ninth floor. I’d already filled out all the new-hire forms with Sally, so I assumed it was company protocol for Ruth to introduce herself to new employees on their first day.
It soon became apparent, however, that she had something else in mind.
The instant the elevator doors closed and we began to ascend, she turned to me with a serious face and an air of urgency.
“Sally told me that she informed you of the challenges you’ll be facing in your position. Is that correct?”
She put enough special emphasis on the word “challenges” that I understood she meant my new boss but was trying to be circumspect about it.
“Yes. I’ve been fully prepped. I’m ready.”
Her smile was small and pitying. “That’s like saying you’re ready to be struck by lightning, dear, but no one is ever quite ready for that.”
I didn’t let her cryptic statement deter me. I simply smiled back and thought of the thirty thousand dollar bonus I’d be getting in three months. “Don’t worry about me, Ruth. I can handle anything. I’m unflappable.”
Her expression was grave and full of doubt.
“Seriously, I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten enough details about the…position…that I feel mentally prepared to face anything.”
“That’s encouraging. But please know that if you ever need to discuss any problems you may have, my door is always open.”
“Thank you. But I’m sure that won’t be necessary. I’ve dealt with all kinds of stressful work situations. I know I can handle myself.”
I could tell she wanted to pat me on the head and smile at my na?veté, but she restrained herself.
Her doubt made me even more determined to withstand whatever storms my new boss might send hurtling toward me with a grace and poise everyone could marvel at.
We exited the elevator at the top floor and entered a penthouse lobby with a water feature on one side and a reception desk on the other. The view of Los Angeles through the floor-to-ceiling windows was breathtaking. Ruth introduced me to the CFO’s receptionist, a birdlike brunette named Marion who seemed to be teetering on the verge of a breakdown. Her nervous tics included constant hand wringing, eyes that darted left and right as if scanning for predators, and gnawing on her chapped lower lip.