Edward
"Yeah, of course!" I start. "Have you seen the numbers? It's the absolute right fucking time to make a move."
"Edward." It's Rose. Of course, she's here to ruin my mood. My head turns, and I meet her stern gaze. No wonder she can't seem to land a guy with death stares like that.
"You should be upstairs." My sister sounds bored beyond comprehension as she lets her eyes rake over the monitors, the graphs. "There's an entire company you're responsible for now. Not just these guys," she presses.
I roll my eyes.
"Risk management is a pretty big and important division of the company, Rose. As CEO, it's absolutely imperative for me to know what's up."
"That's what the Risk Manager is for, Edward. He'll bring you up to speed, daily. Twice a day, even, if that's what you want."
God, she's hard to argue with. Facts and figures and formality. That's my sister. The infamous Thorned Rose of the Cullens.
I stand from my position on Ben's desk, still a head taller than she is, even in her tall heels. But she doesn't budge, of course. My sister was built for pressure. I still try, though.
"As of right now, Rosalie, there still isn't a new Risk Manager. And since I, as CEO of Cullen Consultancy, find it extremely important to know what's up, as you put it, I take it upon myself to supervise this department, still."
"You can't be CEO and head of Risk Management, Edward. That's too much, even for you." She shakes her head, golden tresses dancing around her elbows.
"Then find me a new Risk Manager, asap," I bite back.
"I'm not your assistant, you know." Her eyes narrow, thin slits of fiery green and gold staring back at me. She's not backing down, or letting me talk to her like this in front of employees ranking lower than her in the company hierarchy.
Backing down simply isn't in our DNA.
"About that…" I start. "How is your assistant handling all the love letters you're getting in your inbox after that heartfelt moment in the conference room, heh?"
She looks absolutely furious. I know she's got admirers lurking in the hallways. And I also know that in the applications for the assistant's position were a couple of rather raunchy pieces.
"You're a child. I can't believe Dad wanted you to have his job. You're totally incapable of being professional." Her voice is low but judging by the silence of Ben and Yorkie, they're hearing every syllable of it.
"This little dramatic piece of theatre you're putting on is the least professional you've ever been."
"I've never before lost my father, and had to watch the Pathetic Playboy take the reign."
She struts off, answering a phone call.
"Burn…" Ben whispers.
"Shut up, and get me those reports before noon."