God, she really does have the nicest eyelashes. Even though she has sandy blonde hair, her lashes are thick and dark, framing her eyes beautifully. But her eyes flash with anger and malicious enjoyment though I have no idea what I did to piss her off, so I blurt something equally disarming.
“Do you still have it?”
“Have what?” She sucks in a breath that lets me know she knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“The tattoo.”
“No.” She shrugs. Too quickly. Too glibly. She has always been a terrible liar. “I got it covered up.”
“It was just a stupid idea.”
I know she doesn’t want to talk about it, so of course, that’s precisely what I do. I always loved a good argument. No, not really an argument. More like a battle of wills and intelligence. Zoe was smart too. Way smarter than I ever was. She never got ahead because she was too honest and nice. Things I got over because I had to. I’m still nice enough, at least when it counts.
“Yeah. Poking pen ink into your skin with a safety pin is never a good idea unless you want blood poisoning.”
“Which neither of us got.”
Her eyes narrow further. Her lids are now so low that I can barely even see her lovely green irises. “Because we were lucky. We didn’t even get an infection of any kind. Home tattoos are indeed stupid. And I’m taking it you still have yours.”
We tattooed each other’s initials onto our hip, where we thought no one was likely to ever see them. We also did the blood brothers thing with each other. The tattoo came later, near the end, when our parents fought so brutally and sometimes violently, that it scared us shitless. We knew we were going to be separated, and we promised we’d never forget each other. We also promised we’d have each other’s backs forever, no matter where we were.
“Never mind,” Zoe snaps. “Even if you still have yours, it doesn’t mean anything. You’ve clearly forgotten where you came from.”
“If you’re truly quitting, you should branch out into mind-reading skills. You’re quite confident in your skill at reading me.”
That, oddly enough, surprises her. She looks uncertain, and then a little bit scared and a tad guilty. See? She was too nice. She’s worried she’s hurt my feelings.
But then she tilts her head and shuts off any sympathy or emotion.
“I think I read you just fine. You’re a snobby, overgrown child who has more testosterone than common sense, and money means more to you than anything.” Her eyes rake over my expensive suit in an unsettling way. Unsettling because when she looks at me like that, I feel exposed. Like everything is bared for the world to see. “Clearly.” That word is said like an exclamation mark. There is no room for error or doubt. She’s summed me up in a few words, and she’s so certain she’s right.
“So I’m the classic case of money makes you forget who you are? That’s what you think?”
Zoe stays ominously silent.
“Well.” I shrug. “Looks like you have it all figured out.”
“Looks like I have.” Is that disappointment on her face? Did she expect a fight? The fact that she might have come prepared for this gets my juices flowing, in every sense.
“Looks like it.”
“Good.”
“If you quit, I’m going to fire everyone else in the upper management positions as well. I’ll make sure they know it was your idea that a change was in order. A sort of cleaning of the house for this company to be successful.”
Zoe’s eyes widen so much that they look cartoony. “You wouldn’t!” She gasps.
No, I wouldn’t. Even my ruthlessness has limits. “I would,” I say, in a way that makes it clear I indeed would because I’m an evil bastard. I close my eyes and run my tongue over my bottom lip like I’m savoring the idea. When I look at Zoe again, I make sure I stare her down just in case she had doubts about how much I’m enjoying myself.
“You…you…you can’t do that. There are…there are laws…”
“Just in case you haven’t realized, I’ll fill you in on corporate takeovers. It just so happens that houses often get cleaned out when one company takes over another. Restructuring is always a good idea as it saves time, money, and puts new, fresh thinkers in place. It’s actually an innovative and smart move.”
Zoe’s lips wobble, but then her jaw clenches. I can tell she’s grinding her teeth because she used to do the same thing when we were kids. Except, unlike when we were kids, watching her do it now feels like a punch in the gut, and my cock, which had kind of at least semi-calmed down, is now so hard again, I can barely sit properly without the blood supply to my lower extremities being cut off.
Meanwhile, the glare Zoe is giving me could melt fucking concrete. It’s deadly, but it’s also hot.
“I…that’s…you can’t do that.” She deflates all at once, clearly not willing to risk other people’s livelihoods to make a point. “They have families, and some of them have worked here for decades.”
“All the more reason to change it up. Just as I said, fresh thinking often inspires innovation.”
“It’s security,” Zoe grinds. She’s obviously trying to keep her rage in check. “We’re already as cutting edge as it gets.”
I shake my head and make a tsk tsk noise with my teeth. “There’s always room for improvement.”
“There you go. I’m wrong, I’m too old fashioned, and I don’t have any good ideas. All the more reason to quit.”
“No, all the more reason to get some training. You don’t need to quit. What you need is a promotion. Maybe even think about
