Embezzled Love Read Free Page B

groaned. Going to bed with damp hair had been a bad idea.
    Immediately, her thoughts returned to Evan—the reason she was up late. There was no use checking for a response this early, besides she had no time. Being late gave her new boss more ammo to use against her. A real jerk, he was nothing like the wonderful man for whom she had worked for twenty years. What were the odds when her ideal supervisor retired, she would end up being supervised by someone Japanese? Somehow people of that particular ethnicity kept turning Cassie's life upside down.
    She'd never been racially biased, but the perception from her new boss' actions indicated anyone of the female gender threatened him. He treated her differently than the male executives, not letting her make decisions as she had in the past, and never soliciting her opinion. In some ways, working for him made her feel married to Greg all over again.
    Her supervisor's treatment set the tone for the other men in the office and made going to work a chore. If she had a chance to find a job that paid the same great wages, she'd quit in a flash, but unfortunately unemployment statistics made chances of that possibility somewhere between slim and none.
    Cassie shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She shed her nightgown and stood waiting for the water to warm. A mental image of Evan drifted through her mind; he probably looked nothing like it.
    She shuddered and peered into the mirror. "Internet dating, are you insane?"
    After testing the water, she slipped inside the shower and ducked her head beneath the toasty stream to clear her thoughts and hopefully untangle the Frankenstein's bride look that sleep had created. Starting over with blown-dry hair would make her morning's toilette a lot easier.
     
    * * *
     
    Cassie shifted positions, uncrossing and crossing her legs under the boardroom table. Her chair made an embarrassing sound as air escaped the bottom leather cushion; a few eyes turned in her direction. Despite her innocence, heat crept up her neck. She hoped no one thought the rude noise came from her personally.
    The business meeting seemed never ending. Mr. Takeda, her boss, turned what used to be an information-sharing workshop into a dictatorial seminar, and stood at the podium droning on and on. No longer comfortable with offering opinions, Cassie fidgeted with boredom and wished the day would end.
    How could one man make her feel so insecure? The abundance of confidence she used to have at work had slipped away. No longer boosted by career achievement, her personal life was now at issue. She glanced around the male-dominated room. Did others suffer Takeda's wrath, or was she the only one because she held the sole female position in management? Between a bum marriage to a man who treated her as though she didn't exist and now a supervisor who operated in the same style, no wonder her self-esteem waned. Even those in the secretarial pool offered no compassion or empathy. They disliked her being successful.
    Her left foot tingling, she slipped off her shoe and wriggled her toes, hoping to increase the blood flow. She leaned on her elbows and rolled her eyes. Would the man ever shut the hell up?
    Finally, Mr. Takeda barked his last command and dismissed the staff. Cassie released a long breath. The meeting and the workday ended at the same time. She walked back to her desk, switched off her computer and grabbed her purse.
    All the way home on the train, she pondered having to keep working under the present conditions. Her wandering gaze locked on the headlines of the newspaper held by a passenger across the aisle—Man found slain.
    Cassie arched her brow at the thought, but quickly shook her head. Killing him wasn't the answer. He wasn't worth going to prison over, but an impish chuckle escaped her when she imagined standing over Takeda's body with a bloody knife in her hand.
    The jolting halt of the train yanked her back to reality. She gathered her belongings