Chapter 8: Unequal Distribution

Noah's POV:

Stepping out of Mrs Clancy's office, I stop on the threshold, blocking the other executives and managers way. I run my hand across my face as if I can wipe away my irritation.

What the hell is she doing?

I ignore the grumbles of the people behind me as I watch Miss Winters. She's standing in the middle of the lobby talking to Holly Sinclair as if she has all day to waste. I've barely been gone an hour and here is she is roaming the company, gossiping with the other assistants.

I approach her, striding across the marble floor.

"Miss Winters, why are you not at your desk?" I demand as soon as I'm close enough that my voice won't echo around the entire hall.

She blinks up at me as if she's confused by my sudden appearance, completely failing to say anything in response.

"Sorry sir. I though Eden might like a tour," Holly answers for her.

I sneer at the way she says her name like they're already best friends. The last thing I want is for my assistant to be getting chummy with Lewis Artie's assistant. That's one connection I'd rather she didn't make.

"Never mind," I say dismissively. "Miss Winters, let's go."

Taking her by the arm, I lead her back down the corridor to our department. She tries to shrug me off but I only release her when I deem us far enough away.

I wait for her to say something as we walk in step with each other, but she doesn't. Her mouth is clamped shut like she can't trust herself to speak politely to me. That idea tickles me slightly.

Once we reach my department, design team one, I hold open my office door and beckon her inside with a tilt of my head. She looks like she wants to refuse but resigns herself to following my instruction, stepping into the office.

Closing the door behind me, I try to decide how best to say what I need to.

"I'd rather you didn't get too close to Miss Sinclair."

"Excuse me?"

Her eyes wide, a gentle blush on her cheeks, she's beautiful. I shouldn't be thinking that. Not right now. Not at all. But there's no denying that she's attractive. Unlucky for her, I don't make decisions at work based on how attractive my assistant is.

"You're new here," I say coolly, "so you don't know any better. But there are some people you just shouldn't mix with."

She barks out an angry laugh, clearly outraged. "And why not?"

"Miss Sinclair is Lewis Artie's assistant."

"So? Who's Lewis Artie?" Her tone is disrespectful as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"The head of design team two," I tell her with as much patience as I can muster.

"So?" She doesn't get it.

"The competition," I say in a tone that suggests she's missing a few brain cells.

She laughs out right this time, throwing her head back.

"And you think they're out to steal your team's designs?"

"Yes," I reply without hesitation.

"Why would they do that?"

Because Lewis Artie is a cheating piece of crap…

"Because that's what they do," I tell her angrily. "Go do your research, Winters and find out for yourself."

"Find out what? If they're stealing your ideas?" she scoffs.

With a sigh, I say, "over eighty percent of the products that make it onto Clancy's shelves come from this team. Do you know how many design teams there are at Clancy's Comforts?"

"Five," she says almost automatically, taking me off guard. I hadn't expected her to know the answer. Then again, perhaps it was just a lucky guess.

"That means that less than 20% comes from the other four. So maybe 5% each, if they're lucky," I say. "You tell me… Do you think they're happy about it?"

She hesitates.

"Oh wait. I forgot. You'd probably be delighted to only have to do 5% of the work."

For a second, I think she looks hurt but whatever emotions I think I can see on her face are quickly masked with a disinterested expression.

"Is that all you wanted, sir?" she asks in almost a whisper.

"For now."

She doesn't say another word as she turns on her heels and exits my office as quickly as she can, leaving me feeling slightly uneasy. Perhaps I went too far.