Chapter 2: Managing Mitchell

A few days went by, and the weather just got colder and colder here in Seattle as November came to a grueling end. I was working on getting our fall collection out on the floor when I heard the bell at the front door ding.

Reece was on her lunch break, and I saw that it was actually Ford Mitchell in the flesh. His midnight hair swept across his forehead, and sweat glistened on his perfect features. I only tilted my head in confusion until I remembered my conversation from a few days back with Mr. Grumpy Lawyer.

A small smile formed on my face, and I thought he would be the same man that I had handed the company to.

The meetings were actually quite enjoyable as we worked on the price and the negotiations. He seemed like a well fit man for the company, and he ran his other businesses with precision.

My assumptions were made to be wrong, however, because as soon as he saw me, a scowl made its way onto his lips.

“You.” He roared, stomping up to the register. Shock covered my face as I recoiled from the negative energy.

“Excuse me.” I snarled once I regained my composure, rage bubbled to the surface.

Was there something in the water here that made wealthy men feral?

“Give me the copies of the contact we have. Now. I cannot believe you would not hand them over to my lawyer, and make me come all the way here.” He all but yelled. Both of his arms flew into the air in frustration.

This man was not the man I thought to be running my company, and I was absolutely outraged at this point.

PA simple, “Hey, I really need those documents, can I please have them?” Would have sufficed. They were mine, and it wasn’t my fault his lawyers couldn’t file them properly.

“Listen, Mr. Mitchell, I don’t know who you think are, coming into my store, demanding things from me, but last time I checked those copies were mine. I don’t see how it’s my fault that your stupid lawyers couldn’t file things correctly, but acting like this won’t get you what you want.” I kept my tone harsh, and as cold as his, earning a bewildered look from him.

He straightened his posture and glared down at my small frame.

“Listen, Ms. Carroll, You have no idea who you’re talking to. You do not want to mess with me. I am the one that runs your mother’s company now, not you. I am not going to tell you again. Give me your copy of the contracts, now.” His velvety voice held a tone which left no room for arguments, well, to someone below him.

He thought the words he used would snap me into compliance, but I only straightened my own posture and glared back at him. I was sick of successful men trying to assert their dominance over me, and I was sick of being disrespected in my own store. I worked hard to get where I was, probably harder than most men would in my position.

“No.” It was simple, firm, and enough to simmer his boiling rage.

“Excuse me?” His tone wasn't angry, but confused, and perplexed.

As if I were delusional to utter that word to him. That’s what most successful women were to these types of men, delusional.

An idea popped into my mind at that moment, a petty idea, but a clever one nonetheless. A smirk made its way onto my face, and my green eyes twinkled with excitement. I knew exactly how to make this man pay for his disrespect, and tickle my fancy at the same time.

“No. A simple but finite response Mr. Mitchell. Clearly you know the word, don't you? You want the documents without asking for them nicely. Then you agree to work here the rest of the day, under my management, and you can leave with them. Make your copies, return them to me whether that be your equally as arrogant lawyer, or some poor intern, and never see me again. Deal?” My tone was confident, and my arms remained crossed over my chest.

The anger returned to his features, and he looked as though he was going to retort with something vile until he looked up at the ceiling, pondering for a few moments. His shoulders sagged, and I assumed he realized that his anger wasn’t going to faze me. My mind was made up, and my body language was proof of that.

“Fine, whatever.” He mumbled before pulling out his phone, texting someone vigorously.

My smirk widened at the victory, and I could tell the gears were still turning in his head, smoke was practically funneling out of his ears.

The bell on the front door rang again, and Reece returned from her lunch break.

“Hey Alice, I’m back, what do you need me to do?” She was smiling and tying her hair up into a loose bun when my smirk widened.

“You can take the rest of the day off, love. I’ve got someone to cover for you.” I looked over at an exasperated Ford Mitchell, and saw one of his eyebrows twitch, and it made my own lips curl delightfully.

Reece paused, letting her hair fall onto her shoulders, and released an excited squeal.

“Oh thank you, thank you! Ugh, I love you!” She exclaimed, rushing up to me and giving me a tight squeeze before rushing out the door to god knows where.

“Now, where were we? Hmm? Oh, I know, please refold all of the jean shorts over there.” I said, pointing to the far end shelves to the right of the register.

He gave me his deepest scowl before adjusting his pristine suit and marching over to the shorts. I gave a small hum in response to his childishness, and fixed my own dress, a pastel pink sundress with flowing detachable sleeves sewn by yours truly. It showed off the little curves I had in my hips, and I was pleased that it reached my knees and met my brown boots with a stylish swoop.

As I saw him struggle with refolding, I busied myself with the work I had on the register’s computer, readjusting the budget for next week’s order. Taking my time, and clicking away on the keyboard. I wouldn’t help him just yet, and my smirk stayed glued onto my face with feminine pride. I could here the infuriating man grumble out loose curse words as he struggled more with folding until they stopped altogether at the notification dinging on his phone. I saw him reach into his pocket and I let out a low whistle tsking at him.

“No phones on your shift Mr. Mitchell. That isn’t allowed.” I reprimanded him and walked over to where he stood, typing furiously at his phone.

He didn’t even bother looking up at me until I reached out and grabbed his phone from him, and took it with me to the register. Normally I would let Reece be on her phone, seeing as she always got her work done anyway, but I was feeling extra petty today, and decided that I would be harsher on him. I felt his presence in front of me and heard a low growl emit from his chest.

“I need that phone, I have important clients that need to get a hold of me, dammit woman!” I looked up at his yelling, and kept a stoic expression on my face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t allow employees on their phones during their shifts. I’ll just keep this up at the front with me until you’re done. You agreed to work under my management and that means abiding by my rules. You do want those contracts, don’t you, Mr. Mitchell.” I kept my voice sickly sweet as I saw gears of rage turn in his gorgeous head. I wasn’t going to admit that I found him attractive, because that meant nothing to me in the grand scheme of things.

“You-I Urgh! Fine! I’m done folding those stupid shorts, what else do I have to do? And for god’s sake what time do you close this place?”His angered expression rang clear to me as he ran a shaking hand through his unkempt hair, and I found joy in the fact that I was stressing this man out to the point where his clean cut look was disheveled.

“I just need you to iron some dresses in the back, only about twenty or so. Then take one of the boxes for the winter collection to the front of the store. Oh, and we close at 7pm, so you only have about six hours left. Chop chop Mr. Mitchell.” I said as a smirk made its way onto my face, and I clapped my hands at him for emphasis.