Sweeter Than Revenge by Ann Christopher Read Free Book Online Page B

anyway.
    “Leave him alone.” He jabbed the pen at her on each syllable for emphasis. “I don’t want you flashing your pretty little smile at him, messing up morale and having all the men sniffing after you. Do you understand me?”
    Nearly blinded with fury—exactly what kind of woman did he think she was?—she smiled sweetly. “Why, David,” she said in her silkiest voice, “you sound jealous.”
    She’d expected him to laugh and sneer, to make another nasty comment. What she didn’t expect was for him to wince. For one brief second out of time she could have sworn he looked hurt. Almost vulnerable. But she blinked and whatever it was she thought she saw was gone and the cold mask was back.
    In fact, he looked smug and calculating—as if he had a bombshell to drop and couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Unease skittered up her spine.
    “Don’t you want to know what you’re going to be doing?” he asked pleasantly.
    Somehow she kept her smile from slipping. “Of course. I assume I’ll have a really short training period, and then I’ll be working with you with clients, making media contacts, things like that. You’ll want to work with my strengths since I’m a people person.”
    He stared at her in surprise, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Uh, no. Sorry to burst your bubble, Princess.”
    Her stomach knotted. He didn’t look sorry at all, the pompous ass. He looked gleeful. “What do you mean?” she snapped.
    “Well,” he said, still chuckling, “I’m the director.Of this whole office.I’m in charge of everything.You’re in charge of coffee, tea and soda. Got it?”
    “I am the owner’s daughter.”
    “Sorry, sweetheart.” A disquieting light shone in his eyes, hot and satisfied, and his low voice was ruthless. “That won’t get you diddly or squat in my office. And I don’t want you strutting around here, lording it over everyone else, okay? You’ve got no seniority and no clout. The guys in the mailroom are higher on the totem pole than you are. The janitor is higher on the totem pole than you are. Don’t forget it.”
    Spluttering with impotent fury, she couldn’t think of anything to say. His sudden, wicked smile and singsong voice struck new terror in her heart, and she braced herself.
    “Cheer up, Maria. All is not lost. If you work really, really hard, and do a good job with the drinks and the filing and stuffing envelopes—”
    Thinking of what these menial tasks would do to her manicure, she scowled.
    “—then maybe one day in, say, a year or two from now, you can actually work with a client. Wouldn’t that be exciting?”
    Enraged, she kept quiet, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a tantrum.
    “In the meantime, you can assist me. And right now I’d love an espresso. Black, if you don’t mind.”
    “I’m not bringing you coffee! There must be something else I can do!”
    “If only you’d come to the meeting on time. We could have tried to figure something out when we were dividing up the work.” He shook his head and shrugged with exaggerated regret. “Too late now. Anyway, you might as well assist me since it’ll be a while—at least a year—before you’re even allowed to speak to a client.” He stood.
    Did he think he would get away with this? Treating her like a second-class citizen when she was the boss’s daughter! Refusing to work with her! Forcing her to make coffee and stuff envelopes!
    Furious, she marched up to him and jabbed her index finger in his face. “We’ll just see about this.” Whirling around, she stalked toward the door. “Daddy? Daddy!”
    Before she reached it, the door swung open and her father poked his head in. Had he been listening on the other side? She didn’t know and didn’t care. All she knew was that he wouldn’t force her to do menial work and would straighten this whole mess out right away.
    The edges of Ellis’s eyes crinkled, as if he wanted to smile but didn’t dare, and he shot a