A couple of minutes feel like two hours before I’ve had enough.
I shove off my door and storm back into my office, ignoring Dre calling my name from her desk.
I grab my phone and then turn right back around.
“Dre. Give me the new employee files.”
She blinks, confused. “Whose?”
“All of them.”
“Why?”
“Just give them to me.”
The edge in my voice makes her swallow her questions. She hands them over reluctantly, her brows furrowed like she knows I’m up to no good. I snatch the folder and disappear back into my office, shutting the door behind me.
Flipping through the papers, I eventually find what I’m looking for: Mya’s personal number.
Worth, you’re acting fucking crazy.
But I’m way past giving a shit now.
I punch her digits into my phone, save them, and type out a short message. Then I lift my head and watch through the glass.
Seconds later, Mya glances down at her device, discreetly sliding it towards her. Her nose scrunches again. She taps the screen and reads the message.
Stop flirting with your superiors, Ms. Jones.
Slowly, her eyes lift towards my office.
Straight to me.
Mya:
How’d you get my number?
And I’m not flirting.
Then explain Griffin’s hands all over you.
She furrows her brows, before a small smirk spreads over her lips.
Mya:
Breathe, Mr. Miller. Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.
I’m not jealous. You’re simply being unprofessional on company grounds.
Mya:
Well… from here, it looks like green is your favorite color.
As if to drive the knife deeper, she puts her phone down and leans in closer to Griffin, laughing at something he shows her. Then she rests her hand on his arm like it’s nothing.
He doesn’t shrug it off.
Once again, Griff’s a dead man standing.