Page 250 of Manhattan Bossholes

I sighed. “We all are.” We chatted for a few more minutes, and then I finally hung up.

Pam had crossed her arms over her chest, looking thoroughly annoyed. “You’re going to be late,” she said.

“I’m the CEO,” I reminded her. “I think they’ll wait for me.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, giving me the look. It probably made her teenage sons tremble. All it did was make me feel a little nostalgic, remembering when Jimmy and I used to make forts in Papa Davis’s office. Nana Dee would settle us with that same kind of stare for scuffing up the good furniture after she’d deliberately told us not to. “Sheila’s already called up to make sure you’re on your way.”

“Since when do I have a meeting with marketing?” I asked, double checking my schedule. “This wasn’t on my calendar yesterday.” I knew that because I’d blocked out a few hours for myself to catch up on admin. for our international operations.

“Since they asked so nicely for one,” she said.

“That’s all it takes to get past you, huh?”

Pam smirked. “Sheila also brought me banana bread.”

“Taking bribes now, are you? How much do you want to get me out of this meeting?”

Pam went back to her desk. “I already know you can’t cook worth a damn. I’d hate to see your baking.”

I scoffed. “Says who?”

Pam cackled from her desk. “Dee.”

I grumbled something about employees who had no respect, and grandmothers who were all too willing to gossip about ancient history. I hadn’t started a fire in the kitchen in at least five years.

“Do you want me to call down and tell them you’re running behind?” Pam called.

I stood, making a mental note of where to pick up in the email I was sending back to one of our contacts in Singapore. “No, I’m heading down right now.” I darted into the hall. “Did they say what it was about?”

“Nope,” Pam said without looking up from her computer screen.

“Probably the sustainable line,” I said, getting into the elevator. Now that I’d hired Natasha, the team had hit the ground running with designs, so it would make sense that marketing would be ready to start putting things together on their side. I’d had it on my to-do list to link up with them in a couple weeks, but I supposed today was as good as any.

The elevator stopped on the next floor, the door rolling open to reveal Natasha. She was chatting with the CAD designers.

“Girl, I’m telling you,” Shay said. “Literally the best thing I’ve ever put into my mouth.” Shay held her hand up to Erik’s face. “Hold whatever lewd comment that sprang to life in your mind.”

Erik smirked.

“We have to go sometime,” Bonnie said to Natasha. “After payday? Dumplings always taste better after payday.”

Natasha nodded. “Count me in. Gotta go—we’ll chat later.” She stepped into the elevator next to me. Her black slacks clung to her in a way that had my gaze dropping to take in every curve as the door closed again.

“Hi,” she said.

“Ms. Dryer.”

“Ugh, please. Not the last name.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Makes you sound pretentious.”

“Pretentious?” I scowled at her. “Would you rather I called you Hellcat?”

“Natasha works just fine. But if you’d prefer Hellcat, I can dust off Coffeezilla.”

She smirked as I turned away. Why was this elevator so damn slow? “On your way to lunch?” I asked. We hadn’t spoken much since we’d had dinner together. Well, me, her, and all my friends.