Page 8 of Not Safe for Work

I’m not sure where to begin. I weigh salient arguments and articulate scathing points in my head, prepared to spear him with my logic and fire his detestable privilege at him like a cannon. I want it to hurt. I want it to burn.

Instead, what comes out of my mouth is “I want to fly first class.”

This isn’t my proudest moment.

David blinks. It’s the only chink in his suit of Armani armor.

“Very well.”

He glances over his shoulder at Charles, who wears a worried expression, his hands clasped on his desk as if wishing he could hide under it.

“Have Mrs. Hunt book a first-class flight for Miss Malik.”

Charles nods slowly.

“And I want a suite,” I continue. “On the top floor. A big one with a balcony and a view of the ocean.”

“Fine,” David says, the cool edge of his tone faltering just the tiniest bit.

I fold my arms and cock my hip. “And new luggage.”

I’m on a roll now, and I can’t seem to stop myself.

“Put it on your corporate card. Charles will approve the expense.”

I try not to let my surprise show at how well this is working. He definitely has something to gain here, too.

“And I want a raise.”

“Miss Malik,” David says, a warning nestled in his voice. I raise my hands in surrender. Fine, that was one ask too many.

I’ll return to this later because I’m sure we’re wading into murky legislative waters.

But I also know HR departments exist to protect the companies they work for, not their employees, so today, I’m deciding on the path of least resistance. I don’t like it, but maybe this retreat—despite everything—is a chance to start fresh and regain what I lost. One last gasp before I finally concede that this place isn’t a part of the future I want for myself.

“Okay, fine. No raise.”

“Are we good here?” David tilts his head and pins me with a dark look that rivals his son’s. I wonder if they practice together in front of a mirror, out-glaring one another.

I nod. For now, we are.

He dips his chin in response.

“Then have a nice time, Miss Malik.”

Chapter Three

Molly’s eyes widen when I drag my new suitcases from my closet. She blows out a low whistle as I flop one on the bed and flip it open. After my run-in with David and Charles, I took the afternoon off and headed straight for the nearest Louis Vuitton.

There, I purchased a complete luggage set, including a ridiculously overpriced makeup bag and tote. These gorgeous creations are now the most valuable thing I own. I’ve been deeply considering the logistics of having myself buried inside the largest one.

“Gallagher is going to flip,” she squeals, running a loving hand along the smooth monogrammed leather. “Look at this stitching. And the hardware. It’s so shiny. I can see myself in it.” She crosses her eyes and sticks out her tongue at her reflection.

I scoff. “Let him flip.”

She kicks back and leans on the headboard as she watches me pack. Last night, we went out for dinner as a bon voyage before I leave this afternoon. After too many Moscow mules, we stumbled to my apartment, where Molly spent the night curled up on the other half of my bed.

I open my drawer, pulling out a myriad of items with price tags still attached. I’ve been shopping nonstop for the past week, curating the most ideal tropical-meets-party-girl-meets-business-casual wardrobe anyone has ever beheld.