The car pulled up and she opened the back door and turned around. “Because no woman wants to feel like she’s just been sexed up according to an instruction manual. Eventually she wants it to feel real.”

Mack planted his hands on his head. This was not happening.

“You know how to romance a woman, Mack. But I’m not sure you know how to be with a woman.”

She slid into the car without giving him a chance to respond. As if he could respond. Because she’d basically said exactly the same thing Gavin had said yesterday.

Mack watched the taillights of the car merge with traffic.

What the hell had just happened?

Del just made five hundred fucking dollars. That’s what just happened.

CHAPTER THREE

“If I don’t come out alive, I want you to have this.”

Liv handed Riya her favorite whisk. Her friend accepted it without all the bullshit platitudes someone might be tempted to offer in a situation like this, and Liv loved her for it. Everyone knew what it meant when Royce summoned you to his office. Even if she came out with her job intact, she was now officially on Royce’s shit list. Which meant that either way, her life was about to become a swirling turd pond. She’d get stuck with the worst shifts (as if there were a good one at Savoy), the worst tasks, and the worst verbal abuse. All her hard work, all the bullshit she’d endured for a year, was going to count for nothing.

Because of Braden Mack.

Liv felt her lip curl. It probably wasn’t fair to blame him, but none of this would have happened if he hadn’t ordered the stupid cupcake. He deserved to take the blame for something.

Riya gave Liv a quick hug. “Good luck.”

“You know it won’t help.”

“No, but it feels rude to say I’m glad it’s you and not me. No offense.”

“None taken.” Liv would feel the same if their situations were reversed. It was every man for himself at Savoy, even among friends.

Liv took the elevator to the third floor, where the administrative offices were located. The doors opened at the end of a long, dark hallway—an omen if she’d ever seen one. Most of the administrative staff had already left hours ago, and their cubicles now glowed an eerie shade of blue from their computer monitors. Liv had only been up here twice in the entire year she’d worked at Savoy. The first time had been when she was hired and had to fill out a bunch of employment paperwork and sign a nondisclosure agreement. Which had seemed like bullshit at the time, but now she understood why. The only way Royce was able to protect his perfect image was by ensuring that no one would talk after they left.

The second time she’d been up here was for a mandatory sensitivity training for all kitchen staff, which had been an hour-long test of her self-restraint. Had these people ever heard Royce in the kitchen? The human resources staff was either totally oblivious or completely hypocritical.

Royce’s office was at the end of the hallway. It took up the entire length of the floor and overlooked the bustling street below. The other two times she’d been up here, she’d been able to see inside through a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that she suspected Royce had installed just to show off his luxurious digs and make the cubicle losers feel like shit. Tonight, however, the blinds had been lowered on every window.

Liv dragged her feet closer. She just needed to get this over with. Whatever awaited her inside, she could deal with it. The office door was mostly closed but for a small crack that let out a sliver of light. Liv raised her hand to knock, but the low murmur of voices inside brought her fist to a halt inches from the door.

“Please, Royce. I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you that he was here.”

For fuck’s sake. He was still berating poor Jessica?

“You like this job?” he asked.

“Y-yes.”

“And you’d like to keep it?”

“Yes, but not like this. Please.”

Cold sweat dampened her armpits. What was going on in there? Liv slid to the left of the door so she wouldn’t be seen through the crack and cranked her head to press her ear toward the opening.

“I need to get back to work,” Jessica said.

“Your shift is over, honey.”

“But I still have some things I need to do.”

“You’re a hostess. What’s there left to do?”

“I-I have to log my time card in and—”

“If you want to keep your job, you know what you have to do.”

Rage turned Liv’s stomach to pure acid as indecision grabbed hold of her racing thoughts. There was no way she could walk away. Liv would never forgive herself if she left that poor girl in there to deal with this alone, but confronting Royce would definitely mean the end of her career. He wouldn’t just fire her. He would make sure she never worked in the industry again.

“Royce, wait,” Jessica suddenly pleaded.

Liv held her breath. What was going on in there? Who was she kidding? She knew exactly what was going on in there, and Royce sounded way too practiced at it.

“I could help your career,” Royce said in that snakelike voice. Liv’s stomach churned as she imagined what he meant.

“Please, Royce. I need to go.”

“You’re not interested in learning . . . new things?”

“I just want to do my job.”

“I think you want more than that.”

There was a rustling sound. A shuffle of feet on carpet. A whisper she couldn’t hear.

“Please stop,” Jessica suddenly begged.

Liv had heard enough. She threw open the door just in time to see Royce slam his mouth down on Jessica’s.

“Get your slimy, disgusting hands off her, you asshole.”

Jessica wrenched away from him with a gasp. She stumbled back so quickly that she collided with the edge of his desk and knocked over the framed picture of his wife. Royce whipped around and—

“OH MY GOD, PUT IT AWAY.”

Liv slapped her hands over her eyes as her retinas burned with an image she’d never unsee. Royce’s pants undone, his shriveled penis flapping like a raw piece of scrod.

“Oh my God. I saw it. I saw it. I’m going need therapy.” She peeled her hands away and looked at Jessica. “Just go. Get out now. I heard everything, and I will help you make a report.”

Jessica’s eyes began a rapid blink. “I—a report?”

Royce took his time tucking in his dick and zipping his pants. “This is none of your business, Olivia. I suggest you back out of the office and come back when I told you to.”

“I did come here when you told me to. Luckily for Jessica, you obviously can’t tell time.” Liv looked at Jessica. “Human Resources has an emergency after-hours line.” Liv narrowed her eyes at Royce. “He won’t get away with this. Though something tells me he already has many times.”

Royce approached in a slow, menacing way. “I suggest you leave now.”

“Not a fucking chance, asshole. How many women have you done this to?”

“Watch yourself, Olivia,” he sneered.

“Let’s go, Jessica,” Liv said, backing toward the door.

“No.”

The refusal was so quiet, so reluctant that both Liv and Royce did a double take. “What?”

“It’s—it’s nothing,” Jessica stammered, straightening her shirt. “You misunderstood. It’s all a misunderstanding. I-I walked in on him when he was, um—”

“Coming out of the bathroom,” Royce finished.

“There’s nothing to report,” Jessica said in a fragile voice.

Disbelief slammed into Liv and stole her breath. “Are you serious?”

“It’s fine. Please—”

“Jessica, I heard everything. Jesus God, I saw everything. He’s sexually harassing you. He can’t do that to you.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Please just leave it alone.”

“He won’t stop! Who knows how many women he’s done this to before or will after you?”

“You’re done,” Royce hissed. “I was going to let you beg me tonight to keep your job after your little fuckup earlier, because despite your shitty attitude, you’re a helluva pastry chef, but this is it. You’re done. You’re fired.”

“No,” Jessica said. “Royce, please.”

Royce stalked around to the other side of his desk, picked up the receiver to his phone, and hit a button. “Get in here.”

“Please, Royce,” Jessica said beseechingly, grabbing his forearm. He yanked away from her so hard that she stumbled again.

She looked at Liv. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“It’s not your fault, Jessica.”

“I need this job,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry. You can’t tell anyone.”

Royce slammed the phone down. “Shut up, Jessica.”

With a gulp, she backed away from him.

Royce glared at Liv. “You’ll never work in this business again, Olivia. You hear me? You’re finished!”

“You’ve made that threat a lot, haven’t you?”

“I don’t have to make threats. I just make promises.”

“So do I. And I promise that if you touch her again, you’ll be pissing blood for the rest of your life.”

Royce’s face flashed beet red, and Liv had the sudden image of a volcano about to spew its lava. Ew. No. She didn’t want to think about Royce spewing anything.

He suddenly nodded at someone or something behind her. “Get her out of here.”

“Sorry about this, Liv.” A clammy hand wrapped around her elbow. Geoff, one of the security guards.

Liv yanked her arm free. “Do you know what he’s doing in here?”

“I just do what I’m told,” Geoff said, pulling on her arm again.

“Of course. Just like a real man.”

Liv spun around—and nearly face-planted into the massive chest of Royce’s other security guard, Sam. She lifted her gaze from his thick neck to his pockmarked cheeks until it collided with his ice-blue eyes.