Chapter 2

Beatrice let out a sharp cry and lifted her hand to hit me back, but I caught her wrist and pinned it down. Then I slapped her again—this time across the other cheek. She went still, stunned. She pressed a hand to her face, putting on a show of pity. But the fury burning in her eyes twisted her features into something vicious. "Jorie! What the hell was that for?" she screamed. "Am I wrong? Everyone says it! You're always turning in hotel receipts for reimbursement," she hissed. "And look at you—dressed like that, meeting clients at night. Everyone knows how you get those deals. "You dirty whore! You can't just hit me! I'm pressing charges!" Her voice echoed through the elevator. It was loud enough that everyone nearby wished they could cover their ears and pretend none of it was happening. Beatrice had the IQ of a toddler. In my past life, she'd at least known to whisper her rumors behind my back. But now, after I pushed her just a little, she spilled every bit of slander out loud—clear enough for me to record every word on my phone. "Sue me?" I lifted a brow and crossed my arms. "Great. Because I'll be pressing charges for defamation. I recorded every word you just said. You'd better have solid evidence or a credible witness ready before my lawyer gets here. "If not, I'll drag every person spreading these lies out into the open. One by one." The elevator doors opened, and I walked out first. Behind me, Beatrice completely lost it. "Just you wait! Everyone here saw what you did! "People already know you're slut! They all saw you hit me! You're going to jail for this!" I smirked. Classic Beatrice. She wasn't very popular, and most of the staff complained that she was too demanding. But I was still the company's top-earning salesperson. Who would dare cross me? Sure enough, when the police and lawyers filed into my office, Beatrice was standing alone. Everyone else was behind me, speaking up one by one. "Who hit you? None of us saw a thing!" "Yeah! And we've all checked Ms. Carpenter's expense reports—there's nothing wrong." "Beatrice, you're an idiot. Don't drag us into your mess!" "Seriously, did you read too many romance novels or something? You think sales numbers come from sleeping your way to the top?" "And calling yourself Bae all the time—guess your brain's still in baby mode!" I sat back in my chair, one leg crossed over the other, and spoke with absolute conviction. "Wearing pantyhose makes me a slut? Hitting my targets makes me a slut? If that's the case, then fine—I'm a slut! "I've got nothing to hide. But you? You're the one spreading lies and trying to humiliate me." The lawyers and officers were just about to take Beatrice in for questioning. That's when my boyfriend Cole, the company's vice president, walked in. "What's all this?" he barked. "What, done for the day?" One sentence from him, and everyone bolted like spooked birds. He slipped an arm around Beatrice as she put on her pitiful act. With all the authority of a decision-maker, he firmly escorted the police and lawyers out. Then he turned back to me, a disapproving frown on his face, his voice cold at the edges. "Marjorie, the company isn't your personal stage for showing off! "Bea's just naive. She doesn't always think before she speaks. You're the senior employee here. Shouldn't you be setting an example instead of picking on a young woman?" I watched as he casually draped his arm around Beatrice's slender waist, and she shot me a smug look, chin lifted. It was almost funny. How had I missed such blatantly inappropriate behavior in my past life? I folded my arms, refusing to back down, and snapped back, "Who does she think she is? She's 24. Shouldn't she be past calling herself 'Bae'? "This is a workplace, not a playground—and definitely not some shady spot for your little cuddle sessions!" Cole stiffened and awkwardly pulled his hand back, clearing his throat. "You... This is going to start gossip. They will say you're a bully at work. "Here's what you will do. Apologize to Bea in front of everyone, and then grab her some snacks she likes. She's too sweet to hold a grudge." Beatrice stood off to the side, pouting dramatically and holding up her stubby fingers. "I want five snack gift boxes!" Her forced cuteness made my skin crawl. I snapped, "How about five slaps instead? You've been sitting on my reimbursement for months, and now you want an apology? "Cole, did all that junk food from Beatrice rot your brain? "Approve my reimbursement. Now. Or I'll be reporting this straight to headquarters!" I gave her one last warning and caught the flicker of panic in her eyes. Right away, I knew. She was already funneling company money into her own account. I returned to my office and deliberately left the door slightly ajar, just enough for Beatrice to eavesdrop. I said to my assistant, "Book me a room for tonight. I'm meeting Mr. Murray to discuss the contract. "Let's go with the Kingswell Hotel up ahead. It's more convenient." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beatrice's eyes light up with excitement. I knew she had taken the bait.