“Yes, Byron.” My tone contains all the acidity that Natalia’s lacks. “Stop.”
“Jesus, Andrey!” They both whirl around, but only Natalia takes a step closer. “What are you doing here?”
Byron clears his throat. “Mr. Kuznetsov, I—we, uh… weren’t expecting you.”
“That was the point.” I step further into his pathetic little office, noticing the sad collection of employee awards displayed like big game animals on the wall opposite the window. “Tell me, Byron: is it a common practice of yours to sexually harass your female employees? Or is Natalia special?”
Natalia’s flushed cheeks burn even brighter. Byron just opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish.
It’s Natalia who recovers first. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I ignore her, keeping my gaze fixed on Byron. “I’m waiting for a response, Byron
