Dex was sitting at one of the tables, acting like a patron. He needed to see it from the other side. Of course, he’d chosen Janice to be the server; he needed things to go smoothly. Dex knew the moment Izzie walked into The Food Lab. She waltzed in like she owned the place, and the people inside were extras. Her scarlet pencil cut dress hugged her thin, model curves. She had a patterned silk scarf wrapped around her head as if she’d driven a convertible to the meeting. Izzie was statuesque; about five feet eleven barefoot. With her stilettos, she was a little over six feet tall.
Izzie scanned the dining area; her red lips quirked the moment she found him. She unwrapped the scarf from her head and dropped it to her shoulders like a shawl. Her ice blonde, chin-length bob parted on the side giving her a flirty bang – very Ellen Barkin. She pushed her big black shades to the top of her head as she moved toward Dex. Izzie’s light brown eyes shone with excitement.
“Dex, darling! You look better than I could ever hope,” she gushed.
Dex stood to welcome her, and she gave him kisses on both cheeks.
“Nice to meet you, Izzie,” Dex greeted with a smile.
“Look at you!” She grabbed his arms then prattled. “Oh my, you’re all muscle!” She moved to his side making comments like she was appraising art. “Strong jaw, natural blond, gray eyes, tall, smells delightful, confident, great posture, well groomed, and my god, that profile!”
Dex tried not to squirm under her perusal. He’d been checked out by women a lot, but this was a different level. He felt like a show pony. He pulled out Izzie’s chair for her to sit.
“You’re a gentleman, too?” Izzie braced herself to sit gracefully before continuing. “At this point, you are so attractive, I could make you a star even if you only knew how to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
Dex laughed. “Lucky for you, I can cook. Order whatever you want. They’re all my recipes. I could prepare anything you have in mind that’s not on the menu, as well.”
Izzie rested her Birkin Bag on the table; she dropped her shades and scarf inside. “I’m starving. I’ll order off the menu, then maybe you can cook for me later today or tomorrow, deal?”
“Deal.”
Cayla took a deep shuddering breath.
That asshole had kept her late the whole week. Craig took her away from the project she was working hard to finish to complete another task. He’d wanted it done by Friday; she’d spent late nights all week collecting and analyzing data to put it into a comprehensive report. She’d completed it just after lunch on Friday and returned to her normal project.
The bastard waited until the end of the day to call her into his office. He’d bitched about nonexistent issues with her work. When she’d pointed out the flaw in his logic and the inconsistencies in his statements, his pale skin turned as red as his hair and his light green eyes darkened with fury. He leaned his pudgy, sweaty body over his desk and yelled that she was insubordinate and lazy.
Cayla’s hands shook with anger, but she held her ground. Her work was not the issue.
“Get out of my face!” he’d yelled. “I don’t want to see your face until Wednesday.”
“Wednesday?” Cayla had repeated.
“You heard me. Don’t come back until then. Think about your future with this company.”
Cayla had bitten her lip to keep from telling him what he could do with her job. She needed more time to pay off her car. She hated the position she was in because of his terrible leadership. He was killing her legacy. At this rate, she would not be able use the only job she’d had in the field as a point of reference. There is no way he would say anything positive about her. She would be forever marred behind his trumped up lies.
She’d left his office, her back ramrod straight; she’d refused to let him see her cry. Felix waited nearby; she could feel the rage radiating off him. Cayla was surprised to see him waiting after everyone had left.
“There was no way I was leaving you here alone with that asshole,” he had grumbled while glaring at the closed door as if he was mentally strangling the man on the other side of the wood. “Let me walk you to your car.”
He’d placed a placating hand on her shoulder. A weak smile was all she had had to offer; she didn’t want to cry in front of Felix either. Cayla had schlepped to her car, the weight of her situation making her feet too heavy to move effectively. Felix had kept her pace as he raged about Craig being an impossible dick.
Cayla had unlocked her car and threw her purse and laptop bag in the passenger seat before sliding into the driver’s seat
. Felix had waited while she locked her door and started her car. She’d rolled the window down.
“Thank you for waiting, Felix,” she’d said, speaking for the first time since leaving Craig’s office. “I really appreciate it.” She’d stopped talking when her voice cracked.
Felix had leaned down to see her better. “No problem, Cay. I just hate that he is so awful. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. That sonofabitch is too stupid to realize you’re his best analyst.” He’d patted her car before standing to his full height. “Be careful on your way home.”
With that, he’d jumped in his truck and followed her out of the complex. Felix had honked and waved before turning in the opposite direction.
Cayla sighed as an errant tear slid down her cheek. She pushed it away with a shaky hand; Craig wasn’t good enough for her tears. None of her usual stress reliefs sounded appealing. She didn’t want to go to happy hour and bash Craig with Kalilah and Natalia, and a bath wasn’t going to wash his bullshit away. She wanted to numb the disappointment of her career falling apart.
She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to think. Cayla drove aimlessly. Her body on autopilot, Cayla found herself parking in front of a home that wasn’t hers. She blinked a few times before she realized where she’d stopped. Purse in hand, she made her way to the front door. The doorbell echoed inside the house when she pressed it.
Cayla tried to remember a time where she’d felt so helpless; it’d never happened. She was in a new alternate universe where she was somehow an ineffective employee. At least that is what any future employer would think if they called to check on her previous position.