"What are you thinking?" I ask him.
"You really want to know?" He replies in a voice so dark and full of warning it sends a shiver down my spine.
"Yes." I say, being utterly brave.
A small smirk lifts the corner of his lips as he walks towards me...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Emara Stone
"Miss Stone."
Dakota's voice echoes through my eardrums and my feet halt. Reluctantly, I turn on my heels only to find his eyes glued on me like I am a walking Bitcoin and he is a crypto-hacker.
"Can I have a minute with you?" He asks me, with that annoying smile of his.
"Yes, Mr. Asshole.. I mean Mr. Black." My lips curl into a smirk as he narrows his green chili eyes at me.
Ah! The satisfaction of poking his ego feels similar to devouring the last slice of a pizza.
Soo good!
Dakota glares at me like a psychopath. Slowly, his unflinching gaze drags down on my body in such a predatory way that makes me want to wrap a curtain around myself.
"Did anyone correct your attire?" He asks me professionally.
Huh?
I glance down at my plain shirt, knee length skirt and formal boots which screams of corporate boredom, then flicker back up to meet his gaze. "Why would anyone?"
It's not like I am parading around in lingeries!
"I see you don't check your emails." He says lackadaisically and I watch his ass taking support of the table like it's going to be a long conversation.
"You are supposed to pair the skirt with pantyhose. That is mandatory for females. And if you choose to wear pants, a tie is compulsory to pair with it. Also, on the days of conference meetings, a suit jacket is a must regardless of your gender." He lectures me like a principal.
Wow! I am already paying for the loan, and now I have to spend extra on pantyhose and suit too for this corporate circus that I didn't even sign up for. Unbelievable!
"You know at Google, people walk around in casuals." I tell the shitty Sherlock.
His expression doesn't change, nor does his sharp razor-cutting gaze from me while he nods calculatively.
"Yes. But this isn't Google. This is HighBars, and we believe in maintaining an office environment where everyone is treated equally."
I scoff. King of partiality talking about equality!
"Doesn't matter if you are boss's favorite.." He tells me boldly, in an unapologetic tone. "If your colleagues are following the dress code, then you are supposedly too."
Favourite? My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
Did he mean favourite to torture?
I shake my head and question him instead, "Why am I here?"
"You are here to learn new skills and practice what you have studied for the past four years in college." He replies in a monotone computer voice.
"No. Why am I here selected as an intern, when I clearly didn't pass the interview?"
