HER GAMBIT

Rebecca strolled confidently right into Myles Jameson’s office, the click of her heels were muffled by the expensive as shit, plush carpet beneath her feet. She rolled her eyes, once again reminded of what a rich ass punk Jameson was. The door swung shut behind her with a soft thud when she entered, and Myles who was seated behind his polished mahogany desk could barely look up from the papers in front of him. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the table as if he already knew what kind of storm was about to crash into his otherwise organized day.

Why was she in his office? He wondered. He thought she said she was done with him.

"Rebecca," he said tersely as he glanced at her. "I believe we've discussed knocking." He reminded her.

Rebecca let out an eye roll and her lips curled into a smile, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she sat down without waiting for an invitation to do so. Myles clenched his fist on seeing that. She leaned back in the leather chair and oh, so c
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