Double Stab

Paola flew to her feet; she stared down at Ken and her anger was very obvious by the way her chest was rising and falling. "You will regret not working with me." It sounded like a warning and a threat. A way too direct statement. "Not like I wanted your failure of a publishing company to publish for me anyway."

That was a lie, the whole city knew how much of a success Ken's company was. People usually lied to themselves when they could not get their way with things. Paola just did.

Paola snorted and stomped out of the room and hit the door so loudly as she left.

Whitney trembled. She boiled with rage. With raw fury for Ken who just threw to the mud a deal, she had worked too hard to seal.

She really could not blame her. She was also boiling inside herself at Ken's attitude. He was rich and could afford to pay his workers even if none of their books sold but he had been too selfish to realize not everyone was as rich as he was. Her firm was a minion compared to his.

Octavia cleared her throat and stood to her feet. "I suppose that means we do not have a contract." Her face spelled that she was as shocked by what happened as Whitney was.

"It is quite unfortunate then." Her company's lawyer stood up and helped her arrange the papers she had shared.

"Maybe I should speak to him and we can schedule another meeting." Whitney was hanging on one last attempt to work her way through the situation they were in—all thanks to a certain arrogant Ken Cavalieri.

Octavia wrinkled her nose. "I do not think that will be necessary, Ms. Whitney. She is already pissed off and I doubt she would listen to anything I say. In situations like this, I'm afraid she never will."

"She may," Whitney said sharply. "We can come to a better agreement and reschedule. His assistant can come on his behalf if Paola is not comfortable having a meeting with him again," she said, nodding to the oblivious Ken.

"That won't be necessary," Ken chimed in from where he was seated. "I do not work with spoiled rich kids who have no manners."

Whitney turned to him and gave him a hard glare to let him know she was quite pissed at him. He flanked the stare from Whitney and looked away. She regretted beckoning him to speak, not literally, but she remembered giving him a do-you-have-something-to-say kind of look. She preferred he had shut his mouth from the beginning as he did rather than uttering the gibberish that sent the deal crumbling.

"Well." Octavia was done. She had packed her briefcase with the papers and straightened them on the table with her fingers strapped around the handle. "That settles it then, have a good day." She walked out of the office with her lawyer.

Whitney nipped at her nose. Frustration froze her blood and anger made her pulse rapid.

"Get out. Everyone." The two lawyers from their respective publishing companies stood to their feet. Ken stood to his feet. "Not you, Mr. Cavalieri," she instructed furiously. "We have scores to settle and you better start praying."

Ken reluctantly lowered himself back into his seat. The two lawyers tidied themselves and left the room.

Whitney paced the room thinking of the right words to use because she was damn burning with fury and fighting the urge to pour the volcano-like rage that was threatening to erupt on the one person who had caused it.

"What the hell was the meaning of that?" she asked, throwing her hands into the air dramatically.

"The meaning of what?" Ken asked as if he had not been in the room moments earlier. As if he was not the one who lost control of his temper and ruined everything.

She smacked the table in front of him. "Don't give me that disgusting attitude as if you don't know what just happened."

"The only thing I know that happened was that I told off a mean, spoiled girl who thought she could look down and talk rudely to others because she has more money than them."

Whitney was exasperated. "She has skills that could make money for us."

"And that is all you care about?" She felt insulted by that question. "It does not matter to you if she insults and talks down to you, and other people just because you can make money off her?"

"She was a client," Whitney explained. "You can't just talk to your clients like that. And there are other ways to go about it."

"Other ways like pleading and licking her ass while she insults you in return?" He was hopeless, completely. Talking to him was no different than pouring water in a desert.

"I do not lick anyone's ass, Ken." She slapped her forehead, reminding herself to stay calm.

"And I will not tolerate the way you are speaking to me."

"Of course, you won't." He smirked like fire, ready to burn the world away. "I am beginning to think you are a coward and I am the only person you can stand up to and be mean to."

She became water. Desperate to quench him but she only became hot. She was about to explode. "You, Mr. Cavalieri, I am tired of your cold intolerant attitude," she said, dicing the heat in the room with a finger pointed towards him. "We have just lost a beneficial client because of your nastiness and here you are acting like it means nothing. Like it shouldn't bother me. Really?"

He took a bottle of wine from the table in front of him and drowned its content down his throat. "The meeting is over; you can return to your company," he said as he kept the half bottle of water back on the table. "I have a lot of other things to do than argue with you." He inserted his hand into his pocket and removed his phone—his way of telling her he was done with their conversation.

He's truly a godforsaken bastard.

"Fuck you, Ken." I hope you get smacked in the face, you cold bastard. She picked up her handbag from the table and started towards the door but turned around. Ken was already busy with his phone. Her blood boiled with rage. While he sat like ice on the top of a mountain in the Arctic, expressionless.

"Find someone else to be your surrogate. You bunch of ill luck!" She cursed and sashayed out of sight.