Home > Stuck-Up Suit(6)

Stuck-Up Suit(6)
Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward

After wiping the drool off the keypad, I moved on to the Team tab. Thirty different directors and managers were outlined. There was a common theme there, too. Over educated and scowling. Except for one lone renegade who dared to smile for his corporate photo. Ben Schilling, who was apparently a marketing manager. Bored with corporate life, but still not ready to go back to my to-do list, I scrolled through Graham’s contacts again. I passed over Avery’s name and wondered if it was only women who Mr. Big Prick managed to piss off. A few names down from Avery, I landed on the first male name: Ben. Hmmm. Without overthinking it, I thumbed off a text:

Graham: What’s up?

I got excited when I saw the three dots start bouncing, indicating he was typing a response.

Ben: Working on that presentation. I’ll have it ready tomorrow as planned.

Graham: Great. Tell Linda to get you set up on my calendar.

At least, I had gotten her name right. I watched the three dots start and then stop. Then start again.

Ben: I didn’t think Linda was coming back anymore. After what happened at the meeting yesterday.

Now we were getting somewhere. I sat up in my chair.

Graham: A lot happened at the meeting yesterday. What, specifically, are you referring to?

Ben: Ummm…I meant when you yelled you’re fired, get the hell out of my office.

This guy really was a total prick. Someone needed to fix his ass. I launched Safari and reopened the last page I had visited. Halfway down, I found what I was looking for: Meredith Kline, Human Resources Manager.

Graham: Maybe I was a little harsh. I’m in meetings all afternoon. Could you stop over and tell Meredith in HR to make sure Linda gets a month of severance?

Ben: Of course. I’m sure she will appreciate that.

If I was too nice, I thought he might have suspected something.

Graham: I appreciate not getting sued. What she appreciates isn’t my concern.

I figured I had pushed far enough, so I tossed the phone into my purse before I could do any more damage. Tomorrow I would return it. And I was looking forward to meeting the jerk in person.



MORGAN FINANCIAL HOLDINGS occupied the entire twentieth floor according to the sign in the lobby. My stomach growled as I waited for an elevator. Seeing as though I’d just had my breakfast, I knew it was nerves, and that pissed me off.

Why was the thought of coming face to face with this jackass making me nervous?

His looks.

Deep down, I knew it was his looks, and that was ridiculous. I wasn’t a superficial person, but a part of me couldn’t help swooning over this jerk. That part of me really needed to shut up right now.

The elevator made a dinging sound and opened up, allowing myself and an older businessman to enter. It was just the two of us as the doors shut. When the man scratched his balls, I looked down at the feather tattoo on my foot to distract myself from it. Why was I a magnet for men who scratched their junk? Thankfully, the car arrived at the twentieth floor soon enough. I exited the elevator, allowing the man free reign to go to town on himself in private.

A black sign with gold lettering that read Morgan Financial Holdings hung atop two clear glass doors. Taking a deep breath in and adjusting my little red dress, I made my way through the entrance. Yes, I’d gotten dolled up for this shit. Don’t judge.

A young, redheaded receptionist smiled at me. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m here to see Graham Morgan.”

She looked like she was about to laugh at me. “Is he expecting you?”


“Mr. Morgan doesn’t see anyone who doesn’t have an appointment.”

“Well, I have something very important of his, so I really need to see him.”

“What is your name?”

“Soraya Venedetta.”

“Can you spell your last name for me? Vendetta? Like a vendetta against someone?”

“No, it’s Ven-E-detta. There’s an E in the middle. V-E-N-E-D-E-T-T-A.” If I had a nickel for every time someone screwed up my last name…well, I’d be richer than Graham J. Morgan.

“Okay. Miss Venedetta. Well, if you like, you can take a seat right there. When Mr. Morgan arrives, I will ask him if he’s willing to see you. ”

“Thank you.”

Straightening my dress, I took a seat on the plush, microfiber couch diagonally across from the front desk. It shouldn’t have surprised me that Mr. Big Prick wasn’t here yet, since he wasn’t on the usual train this morning. I wondered exactly how long I’d have to wait; I only took a half-day and was due back at Ida’s after lunchtime.

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