Page 12 of Hating the Boss

I shot her a look before continuing on. “He ended up commandeering the interview from HR.”

“Did he do that with all the interviewees?” asked Jessica curiously.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. At least not the ones I saw.”

“Maybe he has the hots for you,” said Brittany suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

I could feel my face turning red, thinking of the way his gray eyes had darkened when they had wandered, and how good it had made me feel. It was wildly inappropriate, but somehow, I didn’t care. Maybe taking this job had been a mistake. I pushed the thought from my head, reminding myself of the money.

“I don’t know about this,” said Jessica warily.

“It’s fine, sis. It’s a job. I plan on keeping it strictly professional,” I assured her, washing away my thoughts with a glass of wine.

Chapter 6 Brad

The afternoon sun bore down on me through the tall windows of my office. I shrugged off my jacket and continued going through my emails that seemed to multiply every time I opened one from my inbox. I sighed frustratedly, running my hand through my hair as I leaned back in my chair. I should have made Sarah stay and start today.

I looked over at the desk that sat in the corner of my office.

Her desk.

I had cleared it out this morning of whatever my previous assistant had left behind, including a pack of condoms and Listerine strips. Clearly, the former hadn’t worked because she was now knocked up. I tossed the personal items in the trash and straightened out the work items on the light wooden surface. A lamp, pen holder, Post-its, laptop and iPad, and a desk phone.

All the while, I imagined what Sarah would look like sitting in the leather desk chair. Her face burned into my memory from the briefest of meetings. I couldn’t shake it.

It had been an impulsive decision hiring her. Fred made that all too clear by the expression on his face. I couldn’t help it, though. I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers, and just become another face I would lose in the crowd of the city.

My phone trilled on my desk, grabbing my attention abruptly.

I looked at the caller ID on the rectangular green screen of my desk phone. I groaned. It was my father.

“Word is, your assistant quit,” he said as his way of greeting.

“Yes. I’m painfully aware of that by the lack of coffee…” I muttered.

“What happened this time?”

I winced slightly at his words, as if I had been the reason she left. It wouldn’t be the first time a personal assistant quit because of me.

Demanding asshole, remember?

“She got pregnant.”

My father was quiet for a moment.

“Foolish girl,” he muttered.

“I’m working on finding a new one,” I said, omitting the fact that I had already found one. The less he knew the better about me hijacking Fred’s interview this morning, the better.

“Good. We’re entering a new quarter. We need all hands on deck.”

“Of course.”

He grunted as a way of saying goodbye, and then I heard the click of the phone.

“Goodbye to you, too,” I muttered, replacing the receiver back in its cradle.

I stretched my arms over my head and looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearing 3 p.m., and I had little desire to be at the office anymore. The mundane tasks of my assistant had fallen on me, and I was bored and overwhelmed by them all. I quickly scanned my computer to make sure I had responded to the important emails, leaving the others unread, before signing out.