Chapter Four

Mr. Hunter makes Juliet's life difficult, but worse is yet to come...

“You look stunning,” said Rachel, when I walked into the kitchen for breakfast.

I turned around so I could show her the back. “Does my butt look big in this?” I asked seriously.

Rachael surveyed me. “Yes, but in a good way.”

“There's a good way?”

“Relax, Juliet. You look great,” she assured me.

I had boldly chosen to wear the white shirt and black mini skirt that Rachael picked out. After admiring myself in the mirror hanging in her bedroom, I came to the conclusion that it was a little too daring and tried to take it off, but Rachael was having none of it and threatened to sit on me if I did, which was strange because I weighed more than her, but admittedly, she was a lot feistier.

“It isn't too short, is it?” I said anxiously. “Not too revealing?”

“No,” replied Rachael, exasperated. “It's great. You look great.

You've got a whole supermodel thing going on right now.”

“Only because you did my make-up and hair.” She had pulled my wayward hair into a sleek ponytail, with not a single strand out of place.

“It's not rocket science. I know you can do it too,” she said. “Here.” She handed me a piece of toast. “Here's breakfast. Now get out of here before you're late.”

Jane did a double-take when she caught sight of me as I entered the lobby. “Good morning, Juliet,” she said pleasantly. “You look lovely,” she commented, after I'd signed in.

“Thanks.” I flushed with pleasure.

Embarrassingly, I had caught a few men gazing at me with unmistakable admiration on the train ride over here. Even more surprising was that I found I actually enjoyed the attention but pretended not to notice their gaze. And it was all simply because I was dressed differently. It was quite disappointing that that was all it took to get a mans attention.

“That's a cute outfit,” she said. “Is it Armani? I think I saw that skirt in their store the other day.”

“Um.” I hopped nervously from foot to foot. “No.” It would be a very long time-maybe never-before I'd be able to afford something designer, which reminded me, the rent was due today. “I like your shoes,” I said, nodding at her black stilettos.

“Thanks!” she smiled. “They're by Jimmy Choo.”

“Wow.”

“Cost a small fortune, but they're definitely worth it,” she chuckled. I nodded like I understood what she meant.

“Is Mr. Hunter here yet?” I said, my heart quickening at the mention of his name.

“Yes,” she replied. “He's usually the first to arrive, and the last to leave.”

“I'd better be on my way then,” I said, and hurried to the elevators.

Stacy was not at the desk when I arrived. I assumed she was in his office, and checked for any messages on the phone while I waited for her. Ten minutes passed and there was still no sign of her. I wondered what they were up to.

I set about organizing the desk, even though there was no need. I sorted out a set of pens in a pot so they faced upwards-an old, strange habit of mine. A pile of papers were in mild disarray so I shuffled them until they were neatly stacked. After I had finished, I sat back, there was nothing else to do, not until Stacy showed up.

A little red light began to flash on the phone. I didn't have to look at it to know who it was. I forced my hand to pick up the phone and placed it carefully next to my ear.

“Hello.” The terror in my voice was far too evident.

“Miss. Beaumont?” he said smoothly. “I require your presence in my office.”

I slammed the receiver down without a parting word, then belatedly realized that was not a very wise thing to do, especially to your boss, but it was too late now. I got up and very slowly advanced towards his office doors. I ordered myself to stay cool.

He was sitting at his desk with his feet resting casually on the table. He looked about as busy as I had been. His eyes raked over me appraisingly as I approached him. I did not like the way he stared. There was something primitive in his gaze that unsettled me.

“Miss. Beaumont,” he said, his tone clipped. “I do not appreciate being hung up on.”

I gulped. “Sorry, sir. It was an accident.”

He glowered. “Make sure it never happens again.”

“It won't,” I assured him hurriedly. “Um, did you want something?” I asked. Where on earth was Stacy? She was not in here.

“Why else would I have called you?” he said, in a manner that suggested I was a simpleton.

I blinked. “What can I do for you?”

“You'll be interested to know that Stacy will not be joining us today.”

I barely had time to absorb that bombshell, as he forged ahead. “You will be assisting me, alone.” He paused to give me an unusual, twisted smile. “I presume you are up to the task? It will be a long day.”

I faked a smile, all the while trying not to pass out in front of him. I had broken out in a cold sweat, and my left eye was twitching erratically. No Stacy? And on my third day at work? I had barely gotten my head around how to use the telephone out front, this would finish me off totally.

“Miss. Beaumont, your face has gone pale. Would you like a glass of water?” he asked, without compassion. To me, he seemed pleased with himself. I wondered whether he had a hand in Stacy's absence today.

“No-no thank you, sir,” I whispered. “I'm fine.”

He pulled his feet off the table and stood up in one swift, graceful movement. “Miss. Beaumont. I am aware you have only worked here for a few days.” He moved around the table so we were face to face. “But I'm positive you will not disappoint me.”

I wanted to step back, away from him, but knew how that would appear. I was not comfortable with the intimacy his proximity brought. He was too close. I did not enjoy it. It did, however, give me the opportunity to examine him better. I had earlier decided he was a handsome man, in a sort of dangerous way, but saw now he was more than that.

He was incredibly attractive. It was not entirely due to his physical attributes, as they were not spectacular. There was something else about him, that emanated from him like an aura. It was quite potent, almost like a dangerous scent a predator gives off to warn others that you really should keep away, but can not, as you are drawn in, like a fly into a web.

“I'll do my best,” I managed to say.

“You'll have to do more then that,” he said sternly. “I do not tolerate incompetence, Miss. Beaumont, but I have faith in you. You will not let me down.”

I wasn't sure if he this was his way of motivating me, or if it was a warning not to disappoint him. Either way, I had little doubt that it wouldn't be long before I did something spectacularly wrong, then he would know what he was dealing with.

“I'll try,” I muttered.

“I am not a tolerant man, Miss. Beaumont,” he said, his eyes boring into mine.

I wished he wouldn't keep reminding me-I was fully aware of what type of person he was. “I won't let you down,” I said, hoping to end a conversation that wasn't really going anywhere.

“Good,” he said, finally relenting, though he didn't move. He kept on staring at me.

I, on the other hand, could not look at him longer then a few precious seconds. It was a strange moment that passed between us. One that I was not sure I wanted to end.

Mercifully, a buzzing sound emanated from his pocket. A dark expression passed over his face when he saw who the caller was.

“Hello?” he said brusquely, moving towards the large windows.

I could watch him without fear now. With his back to me, he no longer intimidated me.

“What made you think I want to talk?” he barked. I jumped at his tone. “No. Absolutely not.” He paced the floor in long angry strides, forgetting my presence in the room. “I don't care what your mother says!” he shouted suddenly. “I despise that woman!”

I gaped at him, and turned to leave. This was something I was not supposed to hear.

“Where the hell are you going?” he said loudly. I froze, wide-eyed and turned back towards him. “Did I say you could leave?”

“Um, no,” I stammered. My legs began to shake. “Sorry.”

“Sit!” He pointed to a chair. I sat down meekly.

“Lilith.” He enunciated the name very slowly, in a controlled manner. He also sat down at his desk, all the while shooting daggers at me with his eyes. I examined my nails. “You are not a stupid woman, no, you are quite the opposite-as we are both fully aware.”

I cleared my throat softly and pretended I was hard of hearing. “I have made myself very clear with you. In fact, I cannot imagine making myself any more clearer then I did that day.” He paused and listened whilst a tiny voice on the other end screamed back at him.

Even from the distance I sat, I could hear her using the most un-lady like language. “I'm glad your fathers money was not wasted when he sent you to Princeton,” he said sarcastically. “You have a fine hold on the English language.”

Why had he made me stay to witness this? Surely this was as embarrassing for him as it was for me? I peeked at him, he sat cross legged, half turned away from me, but yet, he still surveyed me. For what? My reaction to his ex-girlfriends hysteria?

I crossed my legs, mirroring his behavior and glanced at him now and then. What was his problem? Didn't he know gawking at someone was rude?

A small smile flickered across his features. “I really don't care about what you think. You bore me.” He spoke now calmly, his temper forgotten. “If you really wanted to kill yourself, you would not have called me.” He must have recognized the look of disgust on my face because he rolled his eyes and turned away in his chair to face the window.

“To remind you, Lilith, you are certainly not invited to the gala. If you do choose to show up, I will have you escorted out of the building.”

What gala was he speaking of? It had to be some soiree that I had not heard of. Stacy had not mentioned any such thing. Then again, why would she? It was highly unlikely she-or I-would ever be invited to such an event.

“Good luck with that,” he drawled, and hung up while she was in mid-screech. “Miss. Beaumont,” he span around to face me. “Please explain why you were about to leave the room.”

I opened my mouth to speak. Wasn't it obvious? He had been engaged in a shouting match with an ex-girlfriend. That was not the sort of thing one lingered around to be privy to. “Well.” I began hesitantly. “I....thought.....I......”

“Yes?” he prompted impatiently. “Does it always take you so long to answer a simple question?”

I squirmed in my seat. “No, sir.”

He leaned back. “Then tell me.”

“You were on the phone,” I said. “I thought I should give you some privacy.”

“How polite of you.” He smirked.

Confused with his attitude, I could do nothing but watch him helplessly, feeling foolish and lost. I did not know which was the appropriate way to behave with this man. He did not make much sense to me.

“I don't understand you, sir.” The confession left my mouth unbidden and with great speed, as if it had to make haste before I could think, and therefore stop myself.

“Excuse me?” He jumped a little, as if startled.

“Nothing.” I backtracked hastily, even though in my heart I knew it was futile. It was too late to take anything back now. I had crossed a line unwittingly, a line I did not know how to maneuver.

“No.” He came to life before me. Suddenly he was someone else, with eyes that glittered like diamonds, and a smile that a delighted child would wear. “It is not nothing. You said something to me. I want you to repeat it.”

With no other option, I did. “I said I don't understand you, sir,” I repeated in a ghostly whisper, not daring to watch for his reaction.

A brief, fraught silence hung between us before he spoke. “And you would like to?”

I tensed, my body seemed to want to fold into itself, to disappear from this place, this moment. “I'm not sure what you mean, sir.”

“I'm sure you do,” he said placidly. “Why do you stare at your lap? Is it so fascinating?”

I jerked my head up involuntarily. How on earth had I managed to get myself into this?

“You are a very curious woman, Miss. Beaumont,” he said, in a way that suggested that maybe, maybe, he found me interesting. That notion itself was beyond my imagination.

And he had called me a woman. No-one had ever called me that before, despite my age. I did not believe I had reached a point where I could use that term to describe myself. Not yet.

“But curiosity can be a dangerous thing,” he said darkly. “And I am not a fool.”

Was it a warning? I could not tell. Maybe he was sending me a message, or reminding himself of something? It was so hopeless, I did not understand what he said. If anything, I was now more confused then ever.

“Did you need something?” I asked, anticipating he would ask me to go and complete some menial task for him.

“Get me a coffee,” he ordered, looking away, suddenly distracted.

I gladly left, shutting the door softly behind me. Finally I could relax. I proceeded in a relaxed pace to make his coffee before it occurred to me I did not know how he liked it made. I considered asking him, but pushed that thought out of my mind. I would not go back in there unless it was absolutely necessary.

I carried a steaming cup of coffee balanced precariously on a tray into his office fifteen minutes later. It had taken me ages to figure out how to turn the machine on.

“What took you so long?” he demanded. “Put it on the desk and get out.”

I was too distracted to be shocked at his sudden fit of anger as placing a cup of coffee on the desk proved a mini-challenge, especially when one was wearing heels. “Hurry!” he snapped. “I don't have all day!”

I did not hesitate, and made haste to escape his sight. Back at my desk, I thought of Stacy and the reason for her sudden absence. I had yet to acquire her personal number- we had both been too busy to exchange our respective ones so far. Now I regretted it. What if I needed her advice during the day? It was not even mid-morning yet. I had hours before this day would end. How was I going to get through it without her?

The best thing I could do was organize myself. I was good at that. I rummaged around and found the laminated blue file that contained all the extension numbers of every department there was in this building. Stacy had told me it was very important. I scanned the numbers, there were hundreds. I put it back carefully in the drawer. It would be best not to lose that file.

Turning on the computer, I checked for any e-mails. There were fifty messages waiting for me in the Inbox. I sat back, overwhelmed. How did Stacy do this every day?

The phone buzzed as I was reading the first message. It was him again. “Get in here now,” he ordered softly.

I paled and scrambled to my feet. What had I done? It must be the coffee. It had to be. Rachael always made the best cups at home while I watched her lazily, not paying attention.

I noted his chair was turned away from me. “Sir?” I waited anxiously for him to say something.

“Miss. Beaumont,” he began, in a dry tone. “Pick up that cup.”

The cup sat innocently enough at the edge of the desk. It was full, as if it had not been touched. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach I picked it up. It was still warm.

“Drink it,” he commanded, still in a soft, almost gentle voice.

“Sir?” Baffled, I stared at the back of his chair.

“Drink it.” He repeated the order a little louder this time.

I brought the cup up to my lips, took a sip and blanched. It was vile. Had I made this? It was awful, like warmed up water with unappealing brown objects floating in it.

He turned around to face me. “How is it?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Um.” How could I defend myself? It was not possible. The coffee was appalling. “I'm sorry, sir,” I said sincerely. “I had no idea.”

He watched me all the while impassively. “Take another sip,” he urged, as if it were a sweet treat that he had rewarded me.

I stood stock still. Had I heard correctly? “Sorry?”

“I said.” He smiled at me. It was an evil grin that scared me. “Have another sip. In fact, drink up, Miss. Beaumont. I want you to finish the entire thing.”

I couldn't believe it. He was mad, surely? Was this my punishment? I had not meant to give him such an abysmal drink, it had been a stupid mistake on my part. But what he was doing was intentional.

I do not tolerate incompetence.

His stark words filtered through my mind. “What are you waiting for, Miss. Beaumont?” he said, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I don't have all day.”

Tentatively I took another sip and managed not to pull a face. The coffee was colder now. I forced myself to imagine it was a glass of mildly warm water and took another sip, then another. I would have liked to pinch my nose to make the whole horrid ordeal easier, but that would have been a sign of weakness. He watched me closely all the while.

“Let that be a lesson to you,” he said when I had finished.

My stomach was not pleased, neither was I, but I was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how sick I felt at that time due to him. Not when he looked so amused. I would rather die.

“Will that be all?” I injected as much venom as I could muster into my speech, whilst remaining polite at the same time. It was an effort.

He nodded, his face devoid of emotion. I turned and stalked out of the room blinking hard. I would not cry, no. Let him be cruel. I did not care. I would not cry.

Once outside, I rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I stared at the cup. It was empty, just like him. It carried nothing inside it, just like him.

I took the cup and threw it into a bin. It landed at the bottom of the basket with a thud, and a crack appeared in the middle, ruining it.

***

He did not disturb me for hours. I wondered, but did not appease my curiosity as to why. Hours passed with me working quietly. It was taking an age to read all the messages. Sometimes I did not know how to respond to them so had to leave them be. It was frustrating. I was not ready for this. Not for any of this, but I would not surrender without giving it my all.

I was so engrossed with my work I did not notice when someone took the empty seat beside me. Only when I felt a tap on my shoulder did I jump and realize.

“Hey!” said Josh brightly, beaming a wide, friendly grin that depressed me further.

“Hello.”

“What's wrong?” He peered at me closely. “What happened. You look upset.”

I sighed. “Stacy's not here.”

“I know,” he said, suddenly grave. “How are you getting on?”

“Not well,” I murmured despondently.

“What's he done?” Josh asked quickly.

For some unknown reason, I didn't want to share what had happened with Josh. I wanted to keep it to myself. I was not embarrassed-far from it. My mistake could have been committed by anyone, but his reaction to it was something I just did not want anybody else to know. Perhaps I was ashamed I had allowed him to treat me like he did?

“It's just hard functioning without Stacy, especially since I hardly know what I'm doing,” I replied, giving him the obvious answer.

He relaxed a little, seemingly satisfied with my lie. “What's Hunter up to?”

I shrugged, and opened another e-mail. “I'm not sure. He's been in there for a while.”

“Probably making someone's life hell over the phone,” muttered Josh.

“I don't know how Stacy puts up with him."

“Neither do I.” Josh slid closer to me. “Look, there is another reason I came up here, apart form seeing if you were still with the land of the living.” He sounded nervous all of a sudden, which made me feel the same. I stopped typing. I was acutely aware something was about to happen that I was not going to like very much.

“Aren't you busy today?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

“There's not much to do when your boss has just gotten fired,” he replied dryly. “I'm just wandering these halls these days.”

“You mean you don't have a job?” I asked, surprised.

“Of course I do,” he said. “But it's boring. Dull. Tedious.”

“What do you do?”

“I don't want to go into it right now.” He shuffled closer. I leaned away hastily to grab a paper.

“Juliet?” He said my name sweetly, softly, caressing it with his tongue.

“Hmm?” I decided to go for absentmindedness. Hopefully that would put off what was going to be an excruciating moment for both of us.

“Look at me, Juliet.”

I looked. His face was glowing with an emotion I had seen before. I cleared my throat. “Josh,” I began quietly. “Look...”

“Miss. Beaumont?”

We turned simultaneously to find James Hunter standing at my desk. How long he had been there was anyone's guess. I stood up, alarmed at his dark expression. His eyes watched me shrewdly, his lips tightened to a point where it seemed they were one straight line on his face. He glowered at me.

Josh sprang up and together we stood, awkwardly, sensing something amiss with Mr. Hunters mood. “Mr. Hunter,” he said, cordially. “How are you today, sir?”

“Fine.” He received a look of utter contempt. “Get back to work.”

Josh bowed his head, as if it were his master who stood before him, and left without a backward glance. Now it was just the two of us.

His hands slipped into his pockets and he walked with the utmost casualness around the desk, right up to me. Impressively, I managed to stand my ground. The incident of this morning had not slipped my mind.

His whole demeanor seemed to shift in a few seconds. Anger had been replaced with something else, something unexpected.

“Miss. Beaumont.” His tone was low, almost seductive, not that I knew much about that.

I was suddenly acutely aware of his presence, and how close we were to each other. If I reached out I could caress his face, or him, mine. That image invaded my mind. How ridiculous it was to think such things! I suppressed the sudden urge to giggle.

“Is something amusing, Miss. Beaumont?” he said, eyes narrowing slightly.

I bit my lip hard, then winced a little when I felt pain. “Sorry,” I muttered.

He regarded me for a moment, before asking, “What did he want?”

“Um, nothing,” I lied, flushing.

“Really? It did not seem that way.” He was angry again. One hand was drawn into a fist, which rested on the table.

I thought fast. “He came up here to see how I was doing,” I explained in a rush.

He slid his hand off the table and back into his pocket. “I want to see you in my office.” He stalked off, not bothering to check if I was behind him.

I rushed to follow him, nearly tripping in the process. He really was a strange man with abnormal shifts in his mood. It made me feel ill.

“I have an important board meeting today, Miss. Beaumont,” he announced, stopping so abruptly I nearly collided into his back. He faced me. “You will join me while it takes place.”

“Join you?” I exclaimed.

“Yes. You are to sit through it with me.”

My mouth opened and close like a fish. He acted, I think, as if he had not noticed, as he went to take a seat at the head of the meeting table. “What do you want me to do?” I was numb.

“You are to sit and take notes on my behalf,” he replied. “I am sure even you are capable of this simple task?”

I bristled. “Yes, sir,” I said, my teeth gritted.

“You are not to speak.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Refreshments have been arranged,” he added with a smirk. “I do not want to risk the health of my affiliates with what you perceive as coffee.”

I inhaled and counted to ten in my head. “Is that all?” I asked acidly.

“For now.” He was grinning widely. It was not a pleasant sight.

Back at my post I waited for the members of the board to arrive and tried to breath.

After rooting around in the desk I had discovered a note pad, which would have to do. I knew I would need to concentrate during this meeting. I did not want to give him another reason to belittle me. I just hoped they talked one at a time so I didn't miss anything important.

The elevator doors slid open and a group of men emerged chatting quietly amongst themselves. Ignoring me totally, they made their way to his office. A few minutes later another small group arrived, then another one. I noticed none of them seemed happy to be here. The phone buzzed. It was him.

“Miss. Beaumont. In which century will you decide to grace me with your presence?” he inquired bitingly. “Get in here. Now.” He hung up.

The board members were seated, waiting expectantly, when I walked in.

“So kind of you to join us, Miss. Beaumont.” He spoke with no humour. “Sit.” He indicated to an empty seat next to him.

For the first time in my life I had the urge to throw something at another human being, preferably James Hunters inflated head. That would cut him down to size. Wisely, I chose not to.

After taking my seat. I opened my note book and waited, avoiding eye contact with the despot next to me.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began stoically, owning the room. All heads turned to him as one. “I'd like to begin by addressing an incident no doubt you are all aware of.” Light murmurs erupted amongst the members. He waited for them to settle down.

“Belrose.” He spat out the name as if it were filth. “After her actions she will no longer be associated with PhysTech Industries. She has been bought out. She longer owns any shares in this company.”

“What happened to her shares?” asked a man sitting at the end of the table.

“She sold them to me.” I chanced a quick glance at him, his jaw was clenched, his eyes now the darkest shade of green.

No doubt, the decision was not hers. He must have forced her to give her shares away. I shook my head. When I looked up he was staring at me, brows furrowed. I turned away, blushing.

“James.” A woman with a shock of auburn hair demanded his attention. “Why was Samantha not handed over to the proper authorities?”

“It was my decision not to involve the police,” he replied, as if this should be explanation enough.

“But don't her actions warrant the attention of the police?” asked the woman. “She has broken the law, after all. She should be punished.”

“She will be,” he said dangerously. I flinched at his tone. He glared at me.

“I heard she did not act alone,” cut in an older man, with greying hair along his temple. There was a collective nodding from the others. His body tensed beside mine.

“That is a matter currently under investigation,” he said curtly. His awkward manner suggested to me there was a secret, yet unknown to them, that only he held.

I clicked and un-clicked the pen nervously. Was I supposed to be noting this down? I had no idea.

“Miss. Beaumont,” he murmured, leaning his head towards me as if he were about to whisper some intimate secret into my ear. His warm breath brushed my neck causing an involuntary electric shiver to run through my body. “Do you live to irritate?”

A few people eyed us speculatively. I shook my head and put some distance between us. We were interrupted when two young men-interns, I think-entered the room carrying trays of coffee and other refreshments.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” he said. The two men gaped at his acknowledgement of their existence and hurried out of the room.

The board members busied themselves with drinks. I flipped through the empty pages and fiddled with the pen. There really was nothing to do. Why had he asked me in here? I could not see the reason for it. I clicked the pen as I thought. I was not doing anything productive. They were all discussing something that did not necessarily require notes.

Without warning, a warm hand shot out and covered mine, squeezing it slightly, stilling the incessant clicking. I looked down.

James Hunter was touching me.

I stared at him open-mouthed. His lips were pressed in a thin, irate line. I had angered him. I held perfectly still, realizing with mild alarm that I was not entirely as uncomfortable with this action then I should be. “Sit still.” he said sharply, as if to a child.

“Sorry, sir.”

My apology was disregarded, and his hand taken away. “As I was saying. With Belrose out, someone will be chosen to take her place.” The board members chatted excitedly amongst themselves. “The final decision will be mine.”

“Who do you have in mind for EVP?” asked someone. I scribbled down the letters as I had no idea what they stood for. I had so much to learn.

“A few people are being considered,” was the vague reply they got.

A woman wearing a ridiculously large black pearl necklace glared at him. She was the only one in the room with the courage to do so. No-one else (myself included) would have dared to look at him in such a way, even though I had been tempted. “Who exactly is being considered?” she said, in a cold, harsh voice.

“I am not willing to go into that at this moment.” Everything about him changed in the blink of an eye. He stared hard at the woman as the room fell quiet. My breathing stopped. He had never looked so dangerous as he did now. He sat motionless, rigid, but the fire in his eyes melted away any courage that dared to grow in the persons seated before him.

The woman realized her defeat and grimly settled down. I could not tear my eyes away from him. He possessed the rare talent of instilling fear in others. Wary, now. I edged further away from his side.

“James.” The man at the end of the table called him in a way that displayed affection one would show for a friend. “I have heard.” He paused. “I have heard that it was the work of.....” He stopped, took a deep breath, and uttered the next words in little more then a whisper.

“...Abramson.”

A forbidding hush descended like a black cloud over the room.

Author's Note

What do you think of the story so far? Is there anything I could improve on? What do you think of the characters? Could I make any changes anywhere? Any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.

Reviews

[Miranda]

“Jane did a double-take” I think that there should ore transition between these two scenes. Perhaps you should consider adding Juliet’s nervous thoughts as she is headed to work.

mans should look like this man’s. Unless they do grammer differently in the UK too.

“belatedly” What’s this word?
“soiree” What this word?

“abysmal” What’s this word?

Alright, well as you can see most of this comment is my questioning of the new words I have found. Anyway, there was nothing major in this chapter. I did enjoy it. Every time I think of James Hunter, I shudder. I think that he likes her, that’s why he wants her so close to him. I think that he gave Stacy the day off so he could see her more. What did he do to her anyway? I don’t like that he made her drink that cup of coffee either. It was mean and rude and cruel and every other hateful word that exists in the dictionary.

[Joan*Eckhart]

Okay, I can see the major problem you're having is with words. "Soiree" means "party" or "Get-together". "Abysmal" means awful, bad, miserable. "Belatedly" means arriving late.
I'm glad you don't like James Hunter, you're kinda not supposed to as he has some major issues, which will be revealed as the story goes on.

[Miranda]

Ooooo! I like suspense. *rubs hands eagerly*