Free Revenge Sex by Jasmine Haynes Page A

pulsing in her
fingertips. “Sure.” She took the chair opposite, then wondered why
the hell she was being reticent. “Did you fire him?”
    He snorted, shook his head. “He left on his
own.” Then he laughed. “At least I don’t have to call him out in a
duel for my girlfriend’s honor.”
    Ruby didn’t have any honor. “He was scared
you would, so he made a preemptive strike to avoid having to say he
got fired on his resume.” Not that anyone actually admitted they
got fired. You claimed a difference of opinion, disparity in
management style, downsizing.
    “I want to apologize for Saturday,” he
said.
    She swallowed. On Saturday, she’d come in
fresh from sex with another man, the scent of come all over her,
exactly what pushed Clay’s buttons. What happened hadn’t been about her , but about the timing. It was inevitable that he’d
regret it, but it hurt anyway.
    She wasn’t, however, going to show any
weakness. “You don’t need to apologize.”
    “I do. First Ruby put you through the
wringer, then I messed with you. It wasn’t fair.”
    She didn’t like the sound of that. Messed
with her. The euphemism belittled what had happened between
them.
    His features were handsome yet expressionless
as he went on. “I hope we can continue our working relationship
without letting this get in the way. You’re excellent at your
job.”
    “Of course. Not to worry.” She stood
abruptly. If he said one more thing, she’d have to scream. “I
better get out there and see how I can help Greg.”
    Rushing to the door, she was half afraid he’d
call her back so he could grind her down a little more. Thank God
he didn’t. In the restroom, she checked her face, her eyes. Her
makeup was fine, and she didn’t appear devastated. No one would
know Clay had just crushed her. Her blazer was crisp, her blouse
buttoned to the neck, her skirt circumspect.
    Ruby Williams would never wear such staid
business attire. Her tops were tight and low-cut, her skirts short
and formfitting. Damn Ruby. Jessica knew she had to stop comparing herself to Ruby , stop wanting what Ruby
had, whether the woman deserved it or not.
    And she had to stop hiding in the ladies’
room, dammit.
     
    * * * * *
     
    “You’re down another worker bee, Clay. Where
are we on the new controller?” Holt Montgomery was seated at the
head of the board room conference table, and the Monday afternoon
executive staff meeting in full swing. In his early fifties, Holt
had a pair of gray eyes that penetrated through even the thickest
cloud of smoke anyone blew at him. Though the companies had
changed, Clay had worked with him for almost twenty years, and
there was a healthy mutual respect between them.
    They’d had reports from David Farris,
manufacturing, Ward Restin, R&D, and Neal Thomas from business
development, then had come Clay’s finance report, to be followed by
Spencer Benedict in marketing and sales. For his part, Clay had
already covered the cash forecast and the Q2 budget. Now they were
down to the minutia.
    “I’m staying on plan,” he said, “interviewing
outside candidates and making the final decision by the start of
next week.” Standard operating procedure, you always interviewed outside as well as inside .
    Holt shook his head. “In the meantime, you’re
spending too much time managing the whole accounting group.”
    “Jessica Murphy is doing a good job keeping
everything in line.”
    Holt raised one eyebrow. “Then promote her.
Our management flowchart is top heavy in male versus female
headcount anyway.”
    Holt had been in favor of Greg Stevens until
today, but Clay didn’t call him on it, especially when Holt had a
point. He wouldn’t have called himself wishy-washy, but he was
definitely being indecisive about Jessica, though she was the best
choice.
    Or she would have been before Saturday.
    The April sun was shining through the open
blinds, and Clay felt like he was sitting in the hot seat. The
coffee, which had made