Page 84 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
“I am not your assistant,” Delilah repeated with a smile on her face.
She set down her yogurt, walked to the door, and let Chantilly in without waiting the fifteen minutes I’d requested. She took a seat on her oversized wing-backed chair and didn’t bother hiding her amused smile as she watched Chantilly flick her eyes back and forth between us.
Chantilly stood by the door, the smile slipping from her face when she realized I wasn’t going to invite her in. “Umm…” She upped her smile until she resembled Jack Nicholson’s Joker and snagged a seat on the chair in front of my desk.
(For the record, Heath Ledger played the best Joker, and I’d annihilate anyone who argues with me about it.)
“That chair’s not yours,” I bit out, sliding my phone out of my pocket to message Durga.
Benkinersophobia: You’ve been quiet. Everything good?
God, I was acting like a pre-teen tool who wanted to get his dick wet for the first time. Truthfully, Durga could be an artificial intelligence playing games with me for all I knew, but she was also the closest thing to a relationship I’d ever had.
Three years of late nights, intense conversations, and phone sex.
I cared.
Okay?
Sue me. Take out an ad. Shout it to the world.
I fucking cared.
Chantilly shot up from the chair, stumbling her way out of the leather. “Oh, I thought… it was empty.”
“It’s Rosco’s. Rosco was just getting a sip of water.” I turned to the rat in front of Delilah’s desk, who had his hind leg raised. He lapped at his ass. “Weren’t you, Rosco?”
Delilah snorted when Rosco didn’t move.
Asshole.
I finally stared at Chantilly. “Who are you?”
Her expression reminded me a little of how I’d left Emery a few nights ago—mouth gaping like a whale shark’s. “I lead the design team?”
“Are you sure?”
“Huh?”
“If you lead my design team, you lead my design team. For God’s sake, don’t say it with a question mark. I feel embarrassed for you.”
“I-I… Yes, I lead the design team. I met you at the design meeting a few weeks ago. My name is Chantilly.”
“Why are you here?”
She toyed with the spaghetti strap of her short dress. “We need to bring on an additional member. Sally retired a few months ago, and Mary-Kate will be on maternity leave for the duration of this project. The workload is too high for two senior members, a junior member, and two interns. Our last project involved six people, and that location had less than half the square footage.”
“Fine.” I waved a hand to shoo her and returned to an email from a Singapore supplier. “Hire another junior associate.”
Chantilly still stood in front of me, unable to take a hint, reminding me of the idiots who responded to my one-word emails with paragraphs. “We ordered statuario flooring for the entire lobby and elevators. The tariff increase was more than we’d been expecting, so the budget is tighter elsewhere.”
I attached a jpeg of a middle finger to the email and replied to the supplier’s offer with one word—no. I’d sooner soak my dick in Icy Hot and visit a two-for-one brothel than pay triple the industry standard for subpar steel.
Durga messaged back. Finally.
Durga: It’s not you. There’s this guy.
I bit back a curse, aware of the audience. It wasn’t like Durga or I had been celibate these past three years, but it didn’t mean I liked to hear about another guy.
