Morris's POV
That insufferable woman Vicky Murphy, who had watched the entire interaction unfold before us, suddenly erupted with the grace of a wounded hyena:
"How dare you touch him like that, you little tramp! Get your filthy hands off Morris, you gold-digging opportunist!"
I maintained my firm grip around my assistant's waist, bringing my lips closer to her ear, keeping my voice low enough for only her to hear.
"Don't move away," I whispered. I knew Monica could feel my body's reaction to our proximity, but that was information no one else needed to be privy to. I shot Vicky Murphy a glacial look that would have frozen hell itself.
"Lower your voice immediately, Vicky Murphy, and apologize to Miss Monica."