Page 6

The conference room falls silent, giving me center stage. A dangerous position for me to be thrust into.

Judging from the stunned look on Kent’s face, I should stop while I’m ahead.

Problem is, however, I haven’t had a good crashout session in a while, so what’s a couple seconds more?

I look at Ryan, and mouth, “I’m so sorry.”

Poor Ryan. Poor, innocent, hasn’t the slightest clue, Ryan. Nothing could have prepared him or the rest of the conference room for what was about to come out of my mouth next.

“Ryan isn’t qualified to fill Elliott’s position. He cried the last time we had a brainstorming meeting when he was asked to think of a gameplay rule for Revenge Slinger 2.”

I look at Ryan again, this time saying out loud, “No offense.”

“None taken.” He tosses his hands up. “She’s right. I’m much happier in quality assurance.”

“See. Ryan agrees. So no, I don’t think you know what you’re doing. And if I had to guess, you’re punishing me for not walking in with a smile on my face when I caught you cheating on me.”

Okay, Natalia, you spoke your piece, leave it at that.

Everyone in the room gasps, and unfortunately for Kent, it gives me the ammo I need to not leave it at that. “Yep, yep. I know. Fucked up, right?” I’m clapping my hands now, which can only mean one thing, I’m going to continue on this word vomit train. “That’s not even the best part. I caught him with my stepsister with this look on his face.” I proceed to contort my face to match whatever the hell that look was he had while spilling into her. I internally cringe as I mimic it. To be honest, it was more disturbing than the cheating part, which in and of itself is disturbing on my part, but this isn’t about me. This is about Kent’s good-for-nothing, cheating, piece-of-shit self.

“Okay!” Kent shouts as if that will erase all I just said. He’s trying his best not to let on how pissed he is at me. It’s laughable. “If you all don’t mind giving me and Natalia the room.”

As if anyone needed a reason to leave, everyone gets up at record speed and flees.

Kent slams the door shut. “Are you finished?” he says through a tight jaw.

“For now.”

He looks at me unconvinced. “Okay then—” He pauses mid-thought and scowls at me. The nerve of him. Crashout or not, what right does he have to scowl at me? “What the hell did you do to your hair?”

Instinctively I run a hand over one of the face-framing highlights I recently had done. The bright magenta shade fills my periphery as melancholy seeps in, competing for my attention. “I dyed it. What does it look like?”

“Oh. That’s different. It’s just so bright and distracting.”

The sinking feeling in my stomach heightens. I don’t have time for this. Not today. “Good thing I didn’t dye it with you in mind. How about we focus?”

He shakes his head. “Yes, of course, silly me. So, umm, let’s get back on track. What the fuck was that?”

I shrug. “I should ask you the same thing.”

All he offers me in response is a dumbfounded look.

See, for guys like Kent who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth, privilege they aren’t worthy of, and are used to people kissing their ass, that little stunt I just pulled in front of everyone is enough to send his fragile ego into orbit. Which is clearly the case given that he hasn’t stopped pacing back and forth.

“Everything okay, Kenty? You seem upset.”

His feet cement themselves in place. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, but it’s okay for you to call me Natty in front of everyone? You know how much I hated when you called me that. Let alone you calling me that at work. Fuck off.”

His eyes widen and with a tight jaw, he sneers, “Well, it’s not like I can call you Lia.” My stomach twists at the nickname. “Because we all know what that does to you.”

I brush off his dig and opt to focus. The glass walls of the boardroom do us no favors; everyone on the other side is doing their best to pretend not to look in, but it’s obvious they are. The only thing working in our favor to distract them from the obvious tension is that the room is soundproof.

“Any-fucking-way.”

He scoffs. “My god, Natalia, do you not have an ounce of decorum? Who talks like this to their boss?” He stands upright, puffing out his chest and straightening his shoulders. “Matter of fact, I will not tolerate you speaking to me like that any longer.”