Steve’s frantic eyes glanced down at the paper showing a picture of me on the front page, but he didn’t speak.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out it was your roommate who wrote that?” Mr. Cole seethed.

Steve didn’t respond, but now that I knew he wasn’t just the guy who made the comment outside the break room, but who’d also somehow arranged this crap to be printed about me, I no longer felt sorry for him.

Monster truck.

I raised my hand. “Mr. Cole? I vote you fire him and then kick his ass so your liability is reduced to only your personal assets versus the company’s.” But whatever you do, get those big hands dirty, sir. Show me how it’s done.

Mr. Cole flashed a glance at me and smiled. “There. You see. She’s already paid for herself.” He looked at Steve. “Steve, you’re fired. Don’t bother collecting your things; Keri will see to clearing out your office.”

Steve rose from the table and kept Mr. Cole in his peripheral vision as he scurried from the room.

“Steve,” Cole yelled, “watch your back, because I’ll be coming for you.”

If I were Steve, I’d be leaving the state.

“Okay.” Mr. Cole blew out a breath and planted his hands on the table. “In the future, if anyone here feels the need to publically shame me or a member of my staff because they didn’t get to go to Milan, please save us all some trouble, pack up your shit, and go home.”

Wow.

“Now,” he took his seat, “where were we?”

We are feeling very hot for you right now. That’s where we are. I forced myself to turn away a thousand different thoughts pertaining to how that man had just triggered a dire need to show some gratitude. With my body.

The rest of the meeting was run like I’d originally imagined—professional, efficient, and drama free—with the heads of each department giving overviews or status updates on major projects. Marketing got a huge pat on the back for yet another flawless launch of a new product line. Operations got a kick in the pants because the new factory in Jersey was two months behind in construction due to weather delays, and C.C.’s contract manufacturers were still struggling to keep up meeting basic orders. So the company was bleeding money. Sales got a stick and carrot because the numbers were up, but margins were down. Of course, most of that had to do with lack of product to sell, but Mr. Cole pointed out that they’d not been pushing the higher-margin, more readily available product like lip gloss.

Raising my hand at the same time my mouth went to work, I offered up this nugget, “How about another Maxwell Cole spread? My friends still talk about that Nude and Natural campaign.” The moment I said those words, I instantly regretted them. Why? Because the entire room gasped, rumbled, and snickered, indicating I’d stepped on a landmine.

Mr. Cole shot a look at me. “Are you suggesting, Miss Snow, that taking off my clothes is the only way for this company to sell product?”

Oh damn. He was angry. Again. But why?

Well, I’d dug my hole, and backpedaling would only make me look weak. I knew that about my boss now. If I was wrong for my suggestion, then so be it, but being wrong and spineless was not a wise choice.

I drew a breath, uncrossed my legs, and stared him in the eyes. “It’s not the only way. But let’s face it, you could sell ice to an Eskimo.”

He tilted his head, looking at me with a peculiar expression as if to say, “Are you mad or crazy?”

The room waited with bated breath. “Anyone else here agree with Miss Snow?”

Mike leaned over and whispered, “Mr. Cole banned anyone from suggesting that again. It’s been proposed a million times. The last person that did it was fired.”

Oh God. Now I got it.

Surprisingly, almost everyone in the room still raised their hands, and Maxwell Cole shook his head. “I hire the best people in the industry and they can’t come up with anything more creative than seeing me naked.” He looked at me. “Thank you for your suggestion, Miss Snow. I’ll think about it.” He nodded and moved on.

Wait. Why hadn’t he chewed me up and spit me out? I knew he wanted to, but he hadn’t.

No. This won’t work at all. He was not allowed to show me any favoritism or special treatment just because…of everything else.

I’d have to speak to him later because I really wanted this to work out. Though, I’d later learn that was impossible.

At the end of the meeting, a few people came over to introduce themselves—Susan, head of Marketing; Jer, the head of Operations; Gloria, head of R and D; and a few others in Sales. It wasn’t the warmest welcome, but it seemed my willingness to speak up to the boss won me a little respect despite my bumpy start.

Right after we adjourned, I went to see Keri and ask if Cole was available, but she was already off to lunch. Hearing that familiar deep voice on the other side of his door, I figured Mr. Cole was busy on a call or something, so I turned around and headed back toward the stairwell. Just then my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from the big man himself.

Mr. Cole: Come see me.

I didn’t want to seem like a stalker standing outside his door, so I replied, Be there in five.

I heard a thump emanate from his office. Had he hit his desk because I told him to wait?

Me: Sorry. Make that ten. I need to wrap up this call.

Thump!

Dear God. This man had a temper. I quietly stepped out into the stairwell to wait in my office for a few minutes. I had plenty to do now that I had several accounts, introduction meetings to schedule with clients, accounting issues to resolve, and a project with Mike to work on a new tween line, an exclusive for our top ten customers.

The moment I got to my office and sat, Mr. Cole appeared in my doorway, fuming.

“Do you ever not look angry?” I hissed.

He closed the door and then sat in one of the two guest seats that faced my desk.

He leaned back, staring at me for a moment. “Are you purposefully trying to get fired on your first real day of work, Miss Snow?”

I held my cool. “No, sir.”

“Then why the hell are you behaving like this?”

“Like what?”

He leaned closer. “What are people going to think if you’re looking at me like that in meetings?” he asked in a low voice.

“What are you talking about?” I hadn’t been looking at him any special way, had I?

“Ogling. And you can’t behave like you’re not…you’re not afraid of me.”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “I’m not afraid of you, but that has nothing to do with…” I flipped my hand through the air, “that…event last weekend. And you’re the one giving me special treatment.”

“You mean calling that sonofabitch out for what he said or having his buddy print those articles to punish you because you took his place on the trip?”

“God no. I thought that was surprisingly fantastic. And I’d love to get a front-row seat to the ass kicking, whenever that’s going to be.” In all seriousness, with all the excitement, I hadn’t truly had time to process all that. Mr. Cole really had put himself out there to stand up for me. It was really…nice. Really, really nice. “I meant that you should’ve yelled at me for suggesting the nude photo campaign, but you didn’t.”

“Why would I? You had no idea I’d banned it.”

“Yeah, but I think someone like you would expect me to do my homework before I pop off a suggestion. I didn’t. ”

He stared. “Fine. Point taken. Next time, I’ll be an unreasonable hard-ass.”