"Sir, Miss Winslow is waiting in your office."
Well, here we go. She hadn't wasted time.
He rose, thanked the investors, and dismissed them. As he strolled down the hall toward his private office, his mind played various scenarios of what her reaction would be.
He pushed open the door.
"Miss Winslow," he greeted with an exaggerated lilt. "Didn't expect to see you this soon."
"What the fuck, Alex?" she whisper-shouted.
Alex walked across the room slowly as if they were talking about the weather. He sank into his seat.
"The fire in your eyes is delicious, honey," he murmured, almost lazily. "Better get to the point before I start to have even dirtier thoughts."
"Stop trying to distract me."
Alex gestured with one hand. "By all means, go on."
"Fred is a mob boss?! What does that make you?"
"See," he said, "this is the part where you have to understand that you cannot ask questions."
