Vera
“You’re here.”
Startled by the voice behind her, Vera jumped lightly, her drink splattering onto the counter. She sighed, hating that some of the expensive coffee had been wasted. She may not have paid out of pocket for it, but that didn’t mean she liked to throw away good things when they came her way. She reached beside the sink for the roll of paper towel and took her time wiping the dark brown spots off the counter and floor, needing the time to fortify herself and paste a neutral expression before facing him.
Even then, she could feel little goosebumps dance across her body when she turned around. Almost immediately, her eyes fell on a bespoke grey pinstripe suit and crisp white shirt set against tan skin. He cocked his head to the left just so, and she gulped, trying to maintain an unaffected facade. With barely two feet between them, it was hard to ignore Vihaan. He seemed to take up all the space in the breakroom they were in. Stupid man with his stupidbroad shoulders and his ridiculously chiselled jawline. She waved an imaginary fist at him, wondering if she should do all the women of the world a favour and break his perfect nose. A dent in his features would allow people to retain their sanity.
“I’m surprised you came into the office today.” His tone was polite enough that she couldn’t respond with a slap to his face even if she wanted to.
“It’s a Monday,” she replied with a bland smile. “I didn’t realise we had the day off. I wouldn’t have come in otherwise.”
“You wouldn’t have to come in at all,” he suggested with a calmness that set her on guard. “Especially if you resign.”
Vera clawed back her inclination toaccidentallythrow the coffee in his smug face. She’d spent the weekend imagining possible scenarios for her return to work, some of which included her winning the lottery and quitting her job on the spot, or her new boss finding himself in an accident that made him forget he owned Ethos. Selective amnesia was a thing, right?
Had she perhaps hoped he would choose to behave in a mature manner? No. She had no expectations of decency from Vihaan Oberoi, so his confrontational attitude did not faze her.
“Why would I resign?” she asked, taking a slow sip of her coffee, crinkling her nose when she realised what was missing.
“A resignation would be faster to process than a layoff.”
She turned her back to him, deliberately ignoring him in favour of looking for the cinnamon that must have been included on the tray. It was the one perk of having to do presentations on Monday mornings—breakfast and coffee catered from the cafe next door. She sprinkled the caramel-looking powder liberally and took a sip. The taste was welcoming and familiar, almost enough to overshadow the displeasure of having to face Vihaan. Almost.
She heard him huff out an annoyed breath, clearly wanting an answer from her. If he didn’t want to be ignored, he shouldn’thave disturbed her coffee time, she thought, rolling her eyes before meeting his gaze.
“Trying to avoid paying out a severance if you lay me off?”
“Ah, how could I forget that money motivates you. I’ll include a severance as charity for your sake. I’ll even throw in a gift basket.”
“Hmm. Tempting, but no. You should consider a resignation though,” she advised, nonchalantly sipping on her drink. “It would leave you more time for the parties you are so fond of attending.”
One edge of his lips tilted up in a smug grin.
“Keeping tabs on me?”
“Not by choice. Your face is splashed on every tabloid daily, the famous playboy prince of the media.”
Vihaan’s jaw flexed, but Vera kept going. “You seem to single-handedly bring in revenue for most of the gossip rags. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you doing what you’re good at whenyouresign.”
Caution flared when he stepped towards her with a smile she was certain was as fake as the boobs on his last paramour.
“What kind of a CEO would I be if I resign two days after taking over?”
“The absent kind.”
“And let my employees flounder without my sterling leadership?”
She almost snorted her coffee out.
“I hadn’t realised,” she mused loudly, infusing her tone with as much innocence as she could.
“What?”
“That you’d graduated with a degree in comedy,” she deadpanned.
Vihaan’s eyes narrowed, his lips thinning in displeasure. Somehow, the idea that she was making things hard for him only made her morning better.I hope you get a migraine,she wished, remembering his tendency for headaches.
“I’m your boss,” he clipped.