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certifications.”
    “Ridiculous.” His fingers traveled through his curls with disgust as if he’d found them in disarray. “You’re uneducated. You must have cheated.”
    I narrowed my eyes at him, tried to kill him with my glare—pity that it didn’t work—and pressed my curled fists against my hips. “Excuse me? I’m not uneducated, thank you very much, Mr. Hoity Toity, and I didn’t cheat. How could I have? You watched me the whole time. You asked and I answered, fair and square.”
    “Tell me how you knew the answers. Nobody knows all the answers.” He straightened and tipped his face up to look at the ceiling.
    My cheeks burned, and a growl rumbled low in my throat. “So you set me up to fail. Why? Do you really believe I’m worthless because I happen to have tits? God, what’s the matter with you?” I glared at the floor, my mind off on its own little rampage. How dare he? I was so sick of the good ole boys club. It wasn’t my fault I wasn’t born with a dick. Christ.
    He turned his back to me. “Get out.”
    “Gladly!” I launched the word at him like a cannonball and hoped it would smash him in the face, knocking a few of his perfectly straight, white teeth out in the process.
    I strode to the door, pulled it open, and didn’t stop again until I made it to the elevator. Brent called to me, but I didn’t hear what he said.
    On the way down to the second floor, I collapsed against the mirrored wall, digging fingernails into my palms against the tears. I loved my job. I’d worked so hard to get it, and in a few seconds of anger in the face of a royal prick, might have destroyed it all. The same question I’d asked Cameron came back to me. How could anyone get like that? No wonder my boss had such issues with the man.
    One foot in front of the other, I moved on autopilot back to my office. A sick sort of numbness took over as I accepted my fate. More than losing my job, disappointing Cameron weighed on me the heaviest. The one time he trusted me to do something important and I’d blown it all to hell in less than a day. He’d never trust me again. If I even worked for him by the time he returned. Hathaway would fire me for sure after that. How would I pay the bills until I found another job?
    Deep breaths calmed me a little. Until security escorted me to the door, I’d continue to work and hold my head high. To do anything else would go against my moral code and work ethic. Those, I learned from Mom.
    I slumped at my desk. The BlackBerry vibrated on my belt. Thankful it wasn’t Mr. Hathaway’s phone, I unclipped it and looked at the screen. It was a message from my dad: Your mother wants you to come over for dinner Sunday night. Six o’clock. Don’t be late .
    My mother wanted me to come? Would it kill him to say “we want you to come?” Nope, he had to let me know he could care less if I came or not, had to get his digs in just to satisfy whatever sick sense of satisfaction he got from putting me down. I shut the phone off and threw it on top of the desk. It clashed with a tower of motherboards and sent the whole mess sliding into the wall. The worst side effect of having a photographic memory was that I couldn't forget anything, even when I wanted to. Dad’s message, along with the disdain on his face when he looked at me, would remain etched on my mind forever.
    My heart sank into my shoes when I thought about how Dad would react. A little glimmer of glee would show in his eyes when I told him I’d been fired. That too would stay with me until I died.
    “Bad day?” Jeremy sat on the corner of my desk and cleaned his glasses with the bottom of his shirt.
    I laughed, because I didn’t want to cry. “I’m pretty sure this is the worst day I’ve ever had. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll be getting a call from Mr. Hathaway any minute to disable my accounts.”
    Jeremy pulled his glasses on and leaned forward. “Whatcha mean? Shit, dude, what the hell happened?”
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