Delinda cut into the steaming lasagna. The cheese stretched perfectly.
Elva raised a glass of cheap red wine. "To the new Chief Assistant! May your stock options vest quickly!"
Berkley laughed, taking a massive bite. "Did your MIA billionaire husband send flowers for the promotion?"
Delinda rolled her eyes, chewing her food. "He's a signature on a piece of paper, Berk. Mutual ignorance is the best policy."
She took a sip of water. "Besides, I have enough male ego to deal with at work. The CEO is a machine. A terrifying, cold machine."
Elva squinted at her. "You look a little too excited when you talk about him."
"I'm excited about the year-end bonus," Delinda lied, her face perfectly smooth.
The next morning, the air on the top floor of the Suarez Group was toxic.
Delinda stepped out of the elevator. Julian rushed up to her, his face pale. "Don't go in there. He's in a nuclear state."
Delinda tightened her grip on her tablet. She walked to the coffee machine, poured a black coffee, and pushed open the CEO's doors.
Ace was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window. His suit jacket was off. His tie was pulled loose, the collar of his shirt unbuttoned. He radiated pure violence.
Delinda walked to the desk and set the coffee down. "Good morning, sir. Your first meeting is-"
Ace spun around. His eyes were bloodshot.
He grabbed the thick risk assessment binder from his desk and hurled it at the floor right in front of Delinda's feet.
The binder cracked open. Hundreds of pages spilled across the carpet.
"This is garbage," Ace snarled, his chest heaving. "The projections are weak. The analysis is pathetic. Do it again."
Delinda stared at the papers. She had run those numbers three times. They were flawless. He was being completely irrational.
She didn't argue. She didn't defend herself.
Delinda slowly crouched down. She kept her spine straight as she began gathering the scattered papers, one by one.
Ace stood over her. He looked down at the pale skin of her exposed neck, at the stubborn set of her jaw.
His blood boiled. He kept hearing that man's voice. Sweetheart.
He was projecting every ounce of his rage toward his cheating wife onto the woman kneeling at his feet. He wanted to break her calm exterior. He wanted her to scream back at him.
Delinda stood up. She tapped the papers against the desk to align the edges.
She looked him dead in the eye. Her face was a flawless mask of professionalism. "I will have the revisions on your desk in one hour, sir."
She turned on her heel and walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.
Inside the office, Ace let out a roar of frustration and kicked the heavy metal trash can across the room. It smashed against the wall.
He dragged his hands through his hair, breathing heavily. He was losing his mind.
At her desk, Delinda rubbed her aching wrists. She opened the file on her computer, her jaw clenched so tight her teeth hurt.
