The Carrero Influence

~ The Dance ~

Jake shifted in his seat for the millionth time and tried once more to get his brain to focus on the laptop on the highly polished walnut surface. He just couldn’t keep himself on track lately.

The sound of a female clearing her throat startled him to look up and the impatient stance of Margo waving a piece of paper with a raised eyebrow suggested she had been talking to him while he was zoned out.

“Sorry. What?” He frowned and sighed heavily, pushing himself back into his molded leather chair and rolled up his shirt sleeves in agitation.

“For God’s sake, Jacob. I’ve been here for three minutes talking at you. You need to just bloody well call her.” Margo’s stern tone did nothing to help his current mood, and he just shifted forward again to try to ignore that intent, chastising glare. He went to his laptop, ducking his head in an attempt to dodge her blue eyes and typed something aimlessly.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. And less of the Jacob.” He shrugged with one shoulder and pushed images of Emma from his head for the millionth time. He wondered if maybe he should remind Margo that personal relationship aside, he was still her boss.

Damn Emma for always being inside his head.

had means nothing. Look … you may not want to spell things out to me, but it is pretty obvious you crossed the line with her, problem being that for some stupid reason you then let her go, or should

from his mind’s eye and instead went back to

covered his hand with hers and stopped him from continuing. He yanked his hands free, agitated, pushing back his chair and getting up to walk up and down the length of

even talking about this? Is there something I can actually help you with?” He stomped back to his seat, not sure what the hell he was even doing and slumped back down, creasing his shirt and not giving a damn. Running his fingers through his cropped hair and frowning once more at the stupid

with these then. Deal with it yourself. I do not happen to like dealing with the Giovanni stubbornness in you, short-sighted and pig-headed to boot!” She threw the paper she had been waving around in her hand on top of his laptop keyboard distastefully. Taking them

He genuinely had

for a response, she was turning on her heel and moodily trotting

playing deaf. She kicked his outer door shut to emphasize that she was still seriously furious with him. He had endured weeks of her snippy attitude and stern chastising already, he had no clue why he hadn’t fired her ass for it. Probably because deep down he knew he deserved it, he had behaved like an asshole and Margo was only thinking about Emma and how this must hurt her. All

gold foiling, a thumb tracing her first name slowly as that familiar ache in his heart panged to the forefront. Without

outer part of his desk and sank back covering his face with the back of his hands and sighing. He had no idea if she would even go to the dance but part of him wanted it to be her choice if she did. He wanted to see

fabric and waft of Margo’s perfume, by the time he moved his hands she was retreating to her own part of the office carrying the sheet of paper and still freezing him out. He rolled his eyes and thought better of trying to chastise her about this ongoing behavior. Margo was like a second mother to him and his own mother would probably be acting the same way right about now. He had better get used to her angry standoff because he knew she wasn’t going to let up on him anytime

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