Anne liked to get down on one knee to profess her apology. I wouldn’t go that far, but I made sure to stand front and center before his desk. Luckily, this time he was sitting down—he was much less intimidating that way. I clasped my hands in front of me.
“Well? Did you get the photos?”
“Yes, they’re already in your inbox. I just—”
“And the files? What about those?”
“About halfway done. I’ll stay late and finish them, but—”
“Then what are you standing here for? Get back to them. It’s five, for Chrissakes.”
“Um, I wanted to say something first, please. If you’ll let me get a word in.”
He stood, narrowing his eyes and clenching his teeth. He slowly came around the front of his desk, sat on it and folded powerful arms across his wide chest. So much for not feeling intimidated. I literally gulped.
He raised a brow and then held out his wrist to look at his watch. “You have three minutes. Starting now.”
I blinked. Had Rachel Lynde timed Anne during her speech? In a panic, the words came rushing out of my mouth in no particular order at all. “I just wanted to say that I know you don’t know me at all, but I’ve always tried to do the right thing. I’ve…um…I’ve had some judgment lapses lately and made some serious mistakes that I deeply regret, but I want to do the right thing and that includes this video situation.”
I was rambling, I knew, but I couldn’t stop myself. I took a deep breath to continue on. “I never do stuff like that. I’d never done anything like that. I mean, it was amazing sex—no idea it could be that good—but with all this trouble it’s caused...” My voice faded out for a moment at the cocky smirk that hovered on his lips. Oh God, I couldn’t believe I said that. I sounded so pathetic.
“I—I never set out to hurt anyone or the company. But I was in a pretty dark place at the convention. There was this thing—I don’t want to get into it, but my family is kind of screwed up and I let it mess with my head and I did a really stupid thing. And I feel terrible that the company has been dragged into it so—”
“Time!” he said, cutting me off. He hadn’t taken his eyes off his watch the entire time I’d been speaking. I swallowed.
“Weiss, you just said absolutely nothing to me. All I heard was ‘blah, blah, blah.’” He held up his hand, opened and closed it like a quacking duck. “Get back to work.”
I sucked in a painful breath. It had taken a lot to say all that. I’d spent twenty minutes summoning up my courage to get it out.
My cheeks heated. “I resign,” I said.
His handsome features did not change in the least. “What?”
“I said that I’m resigning.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes. I’m giving you my resignation, and all I ask is that you keep my identity secret as long as possible. So I might be able to find another position to intern somewhere else.”
He stood and now towered over me. I was on the shorter side of medium height—okay, five-four. And he was at least six feet tall, probably taller.
“You’re not interning somewhere else because you’re not resigning.”
“I just did.”
“No, you said ‘blah, blah, blah.’” He opened his hand again. I wanted to slap that damn hand. “Now get out here and finish my goddamn files.”
“But—”
“And you are not allowed to talk to anyone about that video. Ignore that it exists.”
I opened and closed my mouth several times, positive I looked exactly like a carp. He stepped up to me, standing less than a foot away. Then he bent and got in my face. He could have been saying anything to me, but all I could do was reel from how good he smelled. His scent was warm, like cinnamon, and dry like the white sage that grew in the Southern California coastal hills. My nostrils twitched.
His eyes narrowed. “Knock off the fish face and get the files done.”
I closed my mouth, pivoted and walked out of the office. What the what?
He left an hour after our talk, not even saying goodbye, simply nodding in my direction as he walked by. I sat in a daze for several more hours as I finished my pain-in-the-ass task.
So, that was interesting. My Anne Shirley apology didn’t work on him…or did it? Maybe he would have fired me otherwise? I wasn’t quite sure. All I knew was that I’d divulged way too much information—information that it bugged me he now knew.
Maybe my apology had been so pathetic that he’d taken pity on me and decided against firing me for that very reason. Well, whatever it was, I still had my job though I’d likely never find out why.