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“I see.” My tone was cool as I stood to remove my coat. There was a new laptop on the desk as well as a large monitor for the desktop that was turned on. “What is my agenda for the day?”
Bethany smirked. “I don’t have any appointments for you, Ms. Landry. But I do have the login information and employee paperwork that needs to be filled out.”
Then she proceeded to dump a shitload of paperwork onto my desk. I looked from the pile to her now smiling face and back down again.
“Really?”
I didn’t even know that I had uttered the question until she answered me, “Yes, Ms. Landry, really.”
Bethany the Bitch, my new name for her, proceeded to turn on her stilettos and sashay out of the office. I didn’t have a pen, so I yanked the drawer of the desk open and searched for one. There was a myriad of office supplies but no pens. I considered using a highlighter but didn’t want to give Bethany the Bitch the satisfaction of besting me.
Standing up in my own fabulous shoes, I walked out of the office. Bethany was in mid-whisper on the phone when she first set eyes on me.
“Can I help you, Ms. Landry?”
“No thank you,” I replied and marched my way over to the corner office.
“You can’t go in there,” Bethany screeched, slamming the phone down on whomever she was speaking with. She wasn’t as graceful this time as she tried to stop me from opening the door to Mark’s office, but she was too far away.
Mark glanced up from his desk, not seeming surprised by me forcing my way into his office.
“I am sorry, Mr. Williams,” Bethany rambled behind me, “I tried to stop her.”
I turned to address her, “That will be all.”
Then I slammed the door in her face.
Chapter Thirteen
Mark
My lips twitched as I eyed a very keyed up Sutton. Her nostrils were slightly flaring, and her chest was heaving. I had no idea what the intrusion was about, but a part of me was happy that she was there. And I had no interest in analyzing how fucked up that was.
It had been fifteen minutes since we first arrived. I was anxious to hear what had put her in such a state. But Sutton was so damn beautiful when she was angry that I hesitated to change that state.
“Bethany the Bitch has got to go,” she seethed.
I coughed, covering a laugh. Bethany wasn’t the warmest of individuals, but I had never had reason to fire her.
“On what grounds?” I asked when I was able.
“Because she is a bitch.” Sutton said the words slowly as if I were hard of hearing.
I sighed, “You can’t fire everyone that you take a disliking to, Sutton. There is a little something called ‘wrongful termination.’”
Her eyes glittered dangerously, “Wrongful termination implies that I want to fire her because of a prejudice or discrimination. There aren’t any laws protecting bitches—I checked.”
“What did she do?” I asked again, trying to get to the bottom of the matter.
Sutton flushed a little. “She was rude and condescending.”
“Something that is hard to prove without a witness,” I countered.
Sutton continued, “Bethany dropped a huge stack of paperwork on my desk and there are no writing utensils in any of the drawers.”
I smiled. “You are going to fire the woman over a pen?”
Sutton nodded. “And she makes personal calls during work hours. When I came out, she was whispering something into the phone, and she hung up when she realized I was coming in here.”