Fighter's Heart

Scene 26

Lena

I've been in the office for long enough to fix a cup of coffee and switch my computer on when Adrian sweeps in, dressed all in black with a grim expression. Uh-oh. This can't be good.

"LaFontaine," he barks, his chest puffed up with self-importance. Whatever he has to say, it must be serious, because he hardly ever calls me by my last name unless he's about to dump a shit sandwich in my lap. I resist the urge to salute and stand at attention, instead straightening my skirt and meeting his burning gaze. Jeez, something has put a bee in his bonnet.

"What is it, Adrian?"

"Jase Rawlins has been arrested."

My heart pounds in my ears, and I'm pretty sure I've misheard him. Pressing my palm to my chest to calm the wild hammering, I ask him to repeat himself.

"You heard me," he says, closing the door behind him. Dread creeps up my spine. This is bad. Really bad. He approaches me with the kind of slow, rolling walk that might be menacing if he were taller or broader. "I don't know how you possibly made things worse, but congratulations, you did." His eyes narrow. "Is this your way of getting back at me because you didn't want him as a client?"

"No." My back is ramrod straight. Even if I want to puke, I'm not going to cower and plead for forgiveness. I did my best to fix Jase's public image, even if I may have broken the no-fraternization rule while I was at it.

He gestures for me to sit but I don't. He wants the advantage of height so he can look down on me, and I'm not about to give it to him. In my heels, I'm a good two inches taller than Adrian.

His expression darkens. "Even if you can salvage this situation, I doubt you'll have a job at the end of this." Pausing for a moment, he lets his words sink in.

Is he threatening to fire me? Can he do that just because I didn't pull off a miracle?

Then he plays his ace. "Especially if you've been sleeping with him."

"Excuse me?" Did he just accuse me of...? My jaw drops. I mean, it's true, but where does he get off suggesting that? We haven't been obvious about it.

Smirking, he grabs his phone, switches on the screen and shows me the headline. The room spins dizzyingly around me, and I finally sit because the alternative is to risk collapsing. There's a photo of Jase and me on the front page of a tabloid magazine. The headline suggests that he slept with me to get himself out of a tight situation. I clutch my stomach, tasting bile in the back of my throat.

"I—"

"I don't care what you have to say for yourself." He tucks the phone away. "The evidence is clear." Leaning forward, he puts his palms on my desk, towering over me. My hands are trembling and I slide them beneath my thighs so he can't see. "I thought you were better than that, Lena."

He's loving this. Being able to lord it over me. I can't believe I gave him the ammunition to do it.

"It didn't interfere with my job," I say weakly.

"Are you really stupid enough to think that matters?" He raises a brow. "You've called the reputation of this firm into question."

Oh, God. This is actually happening. I'm going to lose my job. Panic lances through me. My career is all I have. If I lose that, what will I do? Go crawling back to my parents?

Never.

"The only way you're ever going to have a future at this firm is if you fix this within the next twenty-four hours." He tweaks his tie, and his tone is deceptively casual. "Even then, I'm uncertain whether we'll be able to overlook your indiscretion."

My shoulders slump. I've given Adrian exactly what he wants. A way to keep me under his thumb forever, or get rid of me. Did he ever actually have any intention of letting me choose my own clients? Or would he have kept stringing me along even if I'd pulled this off without a hitch and kept my hands off Jase's muscular body?

Leaning back in my chair, I look up at him. His plump cheeks are flushed with victory. "Did you ever plan to let me choose my own clients?"

He seems taken aback by the question. Then he shrugs. "Not really, truth be told. You're too valuable where you are."

His betrayal is like an icy needle to the heart. I pinch the bridge of my nose and drag in a slow, deep breath, trying to keep myself together. But you know what? Fuck that. Why shouldn't I tell this piece of human garbage exactly what I think of him? I'll be miserable if I stay here—which may not even be an option—and based on the tabloid he showed me, I'd say my reputation is shot to hell all over the city. Why not have a little fun burning my bridges?

I stand, and with a single motion, sweep nearly everything from my desk onto the floor, missing the laptop by a hair. A dozen tiny crashes sound in the space between us and the color blanches from Adrian's face. Stalking around the desk, I put my painful heels to good use and look down my nose at him.

"Don't bother firing me. I quit." A pressure lifts from my chest. "Fuck, that feels good." Smiling, I say it again. "I quit, Adrian. Effective immediately." Grabbing my bag from the floor, I sling it over my shoulder. "Good luck finding a replacement."

Then I march from the room, adding an extra sassy sway to my hips because I feel like a goddamn boss bitch. One who has no job, an apartment she can't afford, and is about to bail her man out of jail.

"Lena, wait!" Adrian calls after me.

I don't stop. Dimly, I'm aware of clapping as I pass through a series of cubicles, and Breanna catcalls and whistles. I don't meet her eyes because I'm not a hundred percent sure what I'm doing, and if I stop, Adrian might catch up to me. I'm not going to let him talk me into anything. I'm done making other people look good. It's time I do something for myself.

Look out, Las Vegas. Lena LaFontaine is a free agent, and I'm coming to take what's mine.