"N-nothing happened, Dominic." She tilts her head back to look up at me. Sadness swims through those baby blues, working like a wrecking ball on my insides.
I thrust my hands into my pockets to keep from scooping her up into my arms to hold her.
"I just think it's time for me to move on."
I know her. I've spent the last six months obsessed with every expression that crosses her face. I know when she's happy and when she's sad. I know when Todd in purchasing is getting on her nerves, and when she and Liberty have been out for drinks. I even know when she's lying—which she doesn't do often. But she's lying now. Something happened to precipitate this decision. She just doesn't want to share it with me.
Well, fuck that.
I'm not letting her go like this. I'm not letting her go at all.
"Is that your letter of resignation?" I ask, pointing at the paper in her hands.
She nods.
I reach out and pluck it from her grasp before stomping across my office to the shredder. I don't even read the letter before shoving it inside.
"Dominic! What are you doing?" she cries, rushing forward.
I watch in satisfaction as the shredder turns the letter into tiny ribbons of paper.
Summer reaches out to snatch it out of the shredder before it's completely destroyed, but I grab her around the waist, pulling her away from the machine before she gets her hands on it. And fuck me. She feels as good pressed up against my body as I knew she would. Better, even.
"What are you doing?" she cries again, her tone equal parts distressed and indignant.
"You're not leaving me until you tell me why," I growl in her ear, anchoring her body to mine.
She wriggles, trying to break free, but I refuse to let her go. Instead I lift her off the ground and plop her down on the edge of my desk, not even caring as a stack of files falls off, scattering documents all across the floor.
"Stop fighting me, sweet girl," I mutter when she shoves at my chest, trying to push me out of her personal space. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"You just shredded my resignation!" she says, her voice full of righteous indignation.
If my heart wasn't lodged in my throat, I'd laugh. But I'm too fucking worried to do that. Instead, I take a step back, giving her a little bit of space so she knows I'm not trying to hurt her or force myself on her.
"I'm not accepting it until you tell me why."
"Because it's my choice," she says, glaring at me.
"You're a terrible liar, Summer."
"I'm not a liar."
"I know, but you're lying to me right now, sweet girl." I rake a hand through my hair, pace in a circle, and then stop, only to immediately make another circuit. "You love working here. You post about how much you love this place on social media all the time."
"You look at my Facebook?" she says and then frowns. "We aren't friends on Facebook. You don't even have Facebook."
Well, shit.
"I have my sources," I lie, not about to tell her I made a fake profile so I could stalk hers. I don't think that would win me any favors right now. I'm also pretty sure HR would hang me by my balls if they found out. "You love your job. Did I do something to offend you? Is that why you're leaving? Tell me what I did, and I'll fix it."
"You didn't do anything."
Another lie. She really is terrible at this. Her little turned-up nose twitches and her gaze slides away from mine like she can't look me in the eye while telling me something that isn't true.
"Are you not happy here?"
She shakes her head, nods, and then shakes it again like she isn't sure if she's happy or not. The little furrow between her brows tells me she isn't lying this time. She genuinely isn't sure if she's happy here or not. Fuck.
"I'll double your salary."
Her wide eyes fly to mine. "It's not about the money, Dominic."
"Triple it."
She scowls at me. "You are not paying me triple my salary to stay. Are you insane?"
"Maybe," I mutter, pacing in another circle. If I am, it's because she's driven me there. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it. Is it because I sent Tomas to get a coffee pot?"
"What? No." She blinks at me, her eyes clouding with confusion and then outright suspicion. "You sent Tomas to get a coffee pot?"
"Ours is broken?" I'm not sure why that sounds like a question. Maybe because she looks annoyed with me right now.
"Did you at least send someone with him?"
"No?"
She gapes at me for a long, silent moment and then her lips twitch like she's amused. "How many times has he called you?"
"A few."
Yeah, she's definitely amused now. Her eyes light up, her lips curving into a smile. And God, she's incredible when she's smiling. That dimple pops out and I swear my heart beats out of my chest like on the cartoons. That dimple is a lethal weapon. It completely annihilates any chance I have of resisting her.
I take a step toward her, unable to stop myself.
"I don't even feel sorry for you right now," she says, pointing a finger at me. "You can't send Tomas out on his own without exact instructions, Dominic. Making executive decisions gives him anxiety. He needs explicit instructions to follow or someone to go with him so he doesn't get overwhelmed."
And that right there? That's why I
