Page 85 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
Benkinersophobia: He’s a pussy. Lose the guy.
Durga: You don’t know what I was going to say… -_-
Benkinersophobia: Don’t care. Don’t like him.
Durga: For the record, he’s a jerk.
Benkinersophobia: But you want him.
Her silence bugged the fuck out of me.
Benkinersophobia: There’s an obvious answer.
Durga: Yeah? What’s that?
Benkinersophobia: Hate-fuck him. Get the douche out of your system. Move on to a guy who deserves you.
Durga: Who deserves me?
Benkinersophobia: Not him.
When I glanced back at Chantilly, she was still talking. I tapped my Graff Diamonds watch and said, “Get to the point faster. You get one more sentence.”
She shifted from foot to foot, choosing that sentence wisely. “We don’t have it in the design budget to hire another designer.”
I needed Mary-Kate back. Mary-Kate didn’t talk. Where the fuck was Mary-Kate?
“Go above budget.” I pointed to the door. “Close it on your way out.”
“No,” Delilah cut in. “We need to stay on budget with this one. The Singapore contract may need more… leveraging.”
Bribes.
She meant bribes.
I fucking hated everyone.
I sighed, leaning against my chair to look at Delilah. “Hire another intern.”
Delilah didn’t bother returning my attention as she stated, “No.”
“Are you saying you won’t do it or I don’t have enough money to hire another intern?” I added a tab to my browser and double-checked my bank account.
Yep.
Still filthy rich.
“You pay your interns like they’ve been loyal employees for a decade. It’s basically like hiring an experienced employee,” her brow arched, “only you’re not getting an experienced employee.”
“You’re exaggerating,” I said, pulling up Emery’s employee file to verify.
Yearly salary—forty thousand, one-hundred, and forty-five dollars. Not exactly a windfall, but about two-and-a-half grand a month after taxes and withholding. Still, more than what Dad and Ma made working for the Winthrops.
Also, she had a trust fund that could make her o
verly-Botoxed mother weep, and Virginia had more plastic in her face than a delivery truck of Lean Cuisine trays. Just by working for Prescott Hotels, Emery had stolen a job that could have helped someone else.
Maybe I could pay my interns less, but maybe I could also become a corporate welfare shill that contributed to problems like my parents’.
