In front of my desk I sag. The thought of sitting back down makes my ass hurt. Tossing the file on my desk, I grab my purse and hunt for my wallet. I’m still hungry, I need to pee, and I’m thirsty. It’s time to raid the vending machines.

Done in the restroom, I kick off my shoes under my desk before heading toward the break room. At least this break room has all the good stuff in one place. Exousia has four floors in this building, from thirty-four to thirty-eight with, of course, Leo being on the top floor. This floor has the fewest people, only the top executives, numbering all of seven, their assistants and three admins who support the assistants.

The break rooms all have a variety of drinks and every salty and sweet snack known to man. There are even prepackaged cold sandwiches and dinners to be warmed up, a vending machine of frozen dinners containing everything from pizza, to the healthy meals and even the full-fat good stuff rounds out the offerings. All of it is priced not much more than it would be at the store, some kind of deal Exousia worked out.

There are also packets of hot chocolate, three different kinds of tea bags and good coffee available to make in carafes all at no cost. I’m so hungry I can’t make up my mind. I buy a bottle of water and sip while I consider my options and think about what happened in Leo’s office.

Absently, I run through it again and again and wonder why Leo didn’t fire me. Seeing as how he wants to, the shit I said would have been more than enough reason except he didn’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure I scored a major point by asking for the file on Harden. Then I think of that moment, just thinking about it sends heat flooding my body. What was that?

My ringing cell phone interrupts my thoughts. “Hello?”

“Where the fuck are you?” Leo snarls at me.

“In the break room trying to find something to eat. I’m starving. What the fuck do you want?” I answer just as rudely back, god he has me saying fuck now. I never say fuck, but it feels so good. I fucking hate him.

“Your dinner is on your desk. You’re welcome.” Click.

What? I take off at a run to my desk. Leo is gone, and there’s a black cardboard box sitting on top of my desk. Carefully, I open it and find my usual order from Porters a porterhouse, which I’m sure is medium, red roasted potatoes, and garlic parmesan roasted asparagus. Why do I feel weepy at the sight of it?

***

Leo

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