Page 24 of Hating the Boss

I perked up at that. His app was growing in rank in the app store, bringing in a nice stream of revenue for us both. I was eager to see what he had in store. Even more eager for him to invest more money.

“I’d love to hear them,” I said. “When can you meet?”

“Tomorrow,” he said assertively. Well, assertive for a guy three sheets to the wind.

“I think I could make that work,” I said, knowing it would be easy to rearrange a few meetings if it meant millions of dollars.

“Good. I’ll be in touch.” He nodded and went to find his newest girlfriend, a tall blonde with a pixie cut in a backless black gown.

As I slipped out the iron doors and out onto the sidewalk of the Upper East Side, I was glad coming to lunch wasn’t a total waste of time now that I had a meeting with Trent Page. As I walked down the row of meters to my car, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Anton.

“Hey, man,” I said as I unlocked the car. “What’s up?”

“About to head into the restaurant,” he said. I could hear the city sounds behind him, blending into a medley of the sounds around me.

“Which one?”

“Uptown,” he said.

“Ahhh.”

“Where are you?” he asked, probably hearing the engine of my Mercedes come to life.

“I was at Metropolitan Club,” I said.

“How faaancy,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcastic demure. “You know it’s like 1 p.m., right?”

“I know,” I said, pulling the car carefully away from the curb as my phone connected to the Bluetooth in my car.

“Just checking. You rich people sometimes forget what the normal world is like.”

“Har har.” I laughed sarcastically.

“How was it?” he asked curiously.

“The usual. Rich people debauchery, and my father on me about getting married.”

“He’s still on that, huh?” he asked, laughing.

“Always,” I muttered, turning the steering wheel as I made the turn down my street. “I need him off my back. He keeps saying how it’s a family company. He’ll never hand it over if I’m still enjoying the bachelor life.”

“You could always order a mail-order bride,” suggested Anton, and I could tell he was half serious about it.

“You’re kidding, right? If my father found out that my Russian bride was a hoax, he would pull me as CEO. He would cut me out of the company altogether.”

“Yeah…maybe find someone who speaks English…”

“Someone who would play along,” I said, thinking back to when Sarah arrived at the club and my father finally shut up about me finding a wife. “There is this girl, Sarah…” I said thoughtfully.

“Mhmmm…” said Anton, curiosity in his voice.

I realized I hadn’t told him about her yet, not wanting to look like an idiot for hiring someone simply because they were hot.

“She’s my new assistant. She actually came by the club earlier. I think my father assumed we were together because he backed off.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

A tempting idea.