“Natasha. What’s the meaning of this?” I hissed as I shot to my feet. I turned to my associate with a tight smile. “Please, excuse me.”

I walked to Natasha and grabbed her arm, forcing her out of my office.

“Don't touch me,” she grumbled as she tried to release her arm, but I only held on tighter as I looked for a private place to talk. “You’re hurting me, Richard. This counts as assault, you know?” People were watching, looking up from their computers, their files, their coffee, watching me–their boss–like I was a drama playing out for their amusement. “I could sue you, and then that money you’re...