Tame Me If You Can

Chapter 36

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Chapter 36

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"Just remember that no matter what he says, you're a bad ass bitch, who doesn't take shit from no one," says Anna over the phone.

I chuckle, carefully switching lanes. "Thank you...and thanks for checking in."

"Are you kidding? Shove that thank you up your— you know I'd do anything for you."

Anna's violent affection makes me shake my head. "Sorry I haven't been responding, I just don't like...dumping my mood on others."

"I hate it when you say that," she groans on the other line. "But you know what? At least you're trying, so I'll take it. Let's go out when you have time, I miss you."

I smile, even though I'm on my way to collect my stuff. "Love you."

"Love you more."

~

Leave it to me to dress my best when I'm headed for the worst meeting of my life. Not only do I have the pleasure of emptying my short-lived office under Dr. Dennis's scrutiny, but the Head of Human Resources will be there as well. A safe precaution for everyone. And by everyone, they mean Dr. Dennis.

Assholes.

Anyway, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's not letting men see me sweat.

And the court day doesn't count — I was sick and thrown off guard. Now, knowing I've left that slip already, I'm all set to prove them wrong.

I'm wearing a red blazer and dark denim jeans that hug my thighs, because nothing says powerful like a subtle hint on who's closer to their death bed. I'm also wearing my highest booties, so that I look down at the pests on my way out.

But my teeth grit with annoyance when I find the two already in my office, wearing judgements and shit-colored suits.

"Dr. Dennis," I greet, stepping in.

He gives me an obligatory smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Mia, this is Roy Rechter, Head of HR. He'll be assisting me on your exit interview."

Assisting my ass. "Do you want me to collect my things now or..."

He adjusts his glasses with discomfort at my tone and looks around, "Let's...just take care of it now, then we can continue in my office."

Roy Rechter is beside him like a quiet, traumatized, castrated mouse. A cardboard box already awaits on my desk.

"So who's my substitute?" I ask, removing books and candles from the shelves.

"She's a credible expert. Very strong-willed and seasoned."

I raise an eyebrow at his choice of words, but don't bother sparing him a glance. The box is nearly full and I haven't even packed yet. "Do you have another one?"

"Um, are those all your books?"

"Yup," I say with a sigh. "I don't like sticking just to the textbook. It's too condensed, outdated, and doesn't even play devil's advocate."

"We can get you more boxes after the exit interview...?" Roy squeaks in the awkward silence, sweating like I'm about to chop Dr. Dennis' head off.

His posture is stiff, lips pressed with displeasure. I give him a long look, hoping to melt some of the coldness. "Can't we at least discuss what happened? You know I care about—"