CHAPTER 38
MELANIE
AS THE MAN WHOSE HEAD THE GUN WAS POINTED AT SHOOK LIKE A LEAF I LEANED.
subtly leaned towards Jordan and whispered “Is this part of the meeting?” with a small smile.
“It isn’t, but I think it should be. Rather entertaining, is it not?” he whispered back. I leaned into my seat, glad I wasn’t the only one who found this amusing. I maintained my neutral expression though, lest I look too gleeful and people start to look at me funny.
“Calm down Neville. I’m sure we can resolve this amicably” the mixed–race man, who’d gone pale as a sheet, said in what was probably meant to be a soothing tone but only seemed to aggravate him further. I wonder if some parents just decide that they want their children to be picked on in school, giving them such wussy names. What happened to good old–fashioned Daniel? Or Mason?
The woman directly opposite me in the square–cut glasses was whispering furiously to the man next to her. I couldn’t hear them clearly but I caught bits and pieces like “How did he get a gun in here” and “See if you can get security in here.” I folded my arms, deciding to let the scene play out before I potentially did anything.
“Put the gun down Neville” a man with a broad face who I instantly disliked barked and I rolled my eyes.
Oh sure, the poor boy came all this way just to put the gun down when he was ordered to.
As expected, Neville glared back at him “No! No I will not put the gun down. All my life it’s been Neville do this and I will, or Neville do that and I will. That ends today!”
“Boo hoo,” I muttered.
“What exactly do you want?” the mixed–race man asked, still trying to be reasonable and diplomatic.
“I want to not be walked over anymore, especially by him” Neville used the gun to nudge the man who he was pointing it at and he let out a small whimper and shut his eyes.
“Coffee runs, which is fine. Driving you around, you have a driver but that’s fine too. But telling me to get on my hands and knees so you can put your feet on my back? Paying me less than minimum wage and asking me to be grateful you pay me at all? Transporting your mistresses to you and telling them to touch me until I get hard so all of you can laugh and call me pathetic? Lying to your wife and kids about you working late when you’re out there chasing skirts? I am done with all that, Marcel. I’m your assistant, not your fucking slave.”
My my. A slow smile spread across my face as I watched Marcel’s face turn pale while everyone looked at him with expressions of varying degrees of horror and disgust. I felt bad for Neville; I’d want to get back at my boss too if he treated me that way. I won’t be stupid enough to go about it the way he was doing though. This way, the chances of him winning
were little to none.
“I’m sure your boss feels very ashamed for doing those things to you. We’ll see to it that you’re compensated fully for the physical and psychological torture” Mixed Race said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw “Glasses” nudge the man next to her. He gave her a small nod and slowly reached for his phone
which was on the table, most likely to contact security.
At the same time, something seemed to click in Neville’s head and he swung the gun at the room at large “Give me all of your phones. Now.”
I felt a small burst of approval; even if he wasn’t getting out of this the way he’d hoped, at least he was doing some smart thinking.
“There’s no way I’m giving you my phone,” the broad–faced man scowled and shook his head. I wished Neville would shoot him. As if he read my thoughts Neville fired a shot in his direction. It didn’t quite hit him, only whistled past his ear before embedding itself in the wall, but it was enough for him to slide his phone across with a shaking hand.
“Anybody else need convincing?” Neville asked with a hard stare. Clearly nobody did, as they all gave up their phones, except me, who didn’t have one, and Jordan. I looked over at him quizzically and he returned the stare like there was no possible reason I could be looking at him.
“What?” “You didn’t hand yours over” I pointed out, just in case he’d missed the memo.
“Of course not. Do you know how much it costs to have it customized? Or how much pertinent info I have on it?” he
Setting
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CHAPTER 38
retorted, looking at me like I was an idiot.
i scoffed “Everyone knows not to invest too much into a phone. It could be stolen anytime.”
“I’d like to see someone try to steal my phone” he replied, smoothing his hands over his jacket.
“I thought I gave you a coin so you could stop doing that,” I said.
He stopped “Should I really be playing with a coin right now?” he asked. He kind of had a point. “You two over there, arguing” Neville barked, reminding me that we were in a situation.
“I haven’t seen you drop your phones. Do you want me to put bullets in your heads?” “And now the attention is on us. Great job,” I said to Jordan before focusing on Neville. “I don’t have a phone.” I shrugged “Sucks, I know.”
He stared at me for a moment then gestured for Marcel his boss to get to his feet.
“Go over there and search her. I want to be sure she’s not lying.”
Marcel shuffled over to me and I sighed and stood up, spreading my arms to give him more access. He stood behind me and ran his hands over my arms and then down my sides.
I felt something odd when he got to my waist (was he seriously trying to cop a feel?) and by the time he started to caress my butt in the name of searching my back pockets, I sharply jabbed an elbow backward into his face.
He fell back with a yell and I turned to look at him, “Seriously? Your assistant was just holding a gun to your head and you’re still doing the same thing he accused you of. Honestly, I don’t blame him” I spat out, glaring at the pathetic man as he stood up with blood leaking from the side of his mouth.
“Sorry,” he mumbled and went back to his seat when Neville called him.
How did such a disgusting man become head of a company? But then I shouldn’t even be surprised. Disgusting men held powerful positions all the time. Just look at Cadell. Or Donald Trump. Seeming to forget Jordan hadn’t handed over his phone, Neville handed Marcel a jotter and a pen “I’m going to tell you what I want from you. Make sure you write it down.” As he began to call out the items (a Range Rover Sport, really? You could do so much better) I noticed the broad–faced man get to his feet silently and begin to walk quietly towards Neville who had let his guard down, probably thinking he could get the jump on him and take him down.
Rookie mistake.
