Page 34 of Hating the Boss

Peaches and vanilla.

“Sarah,” I said, reminding him of her name.

“Whoever. Did you?” he pried.

“Not yet,” I replied, stepping into the elevator. The same one that had been soaked in coffee just last week. “I don’t even know if I’m going to go through with it. It’s a crazy plan. It’s also a lot to ask of someone. Plus, she could sue me for even asking. I would just be asking for a lawsuit. Or even worse, she could go to the press who would have a field day.”

The excuses kept rolling off my tongue. I wondered if I was really scared of all that, or just scared of how Sarah made me feel. I had honestly not thought about any repercussions until now.

“True,” said Anton thoughtfully. “But maybe she would do it for the right price.”

I tilted my head from side to side, thinking about it. She had seemed happy over the cash yesterday. Maybe some more money would incentivize her. I couldn’t believe I was even thinking about this, especially after mentioning all the things that could go wrong.

“Could be fun,” he said suggestively.

“I’m not here to have fun. I’m here to have majority ownership of Stellar Industries and not have my father as a babysitter,” I said, a little more harshly than I intended.

“Okay, okay,” said Anton. “Don’t bite my head off. Just trying to help out.”

I sighed, watching the numbers change on the screen above me as the elevator passed floor after floor.

“I know. I’m just trying to figure out how to get my father to see that I can do this. I don’t know why I have to go through this weird hoop of his. Love and marriage doesn’t prove anything.”

“He probably just wants to see you happy. This is his weird way of showing that.”

“What would make me happy is him retiring,” I muttered.

The elevator doors opened, and I walked to my office, wondering if I had somehow missed Sarah on her way back from getting coffee. It had felt like a time warp sitting in the accounting office, watching that older woman’s gnarled fingers move across the keyboard. I didn’t know how long it had been since I sent Sarah away again. It might as well have been tomorrow.

But Sarah wasn’t at her desk when I walked in, and there was a cinnamon cappuccino absent from my desk. A frou-frou drink I indulged in sometimes.

I settled in at my desk and leaned my head back against the cool, plush leather of my chair.

“How is Sarah doing?” asked Anton. “As your personal assistant, I mean.”

“She’s keeping up,” I said nonchalantly.

The memory from yesterday of her floating in the sky popped in my head, making me chuckle as I remembered the panicked look on her face before she smiled at me in the air. “She jumped out of a plane for me yesterday.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Anton, genuinely confused.

I filled him in on the meeting with Trent Page and how we wound up in New Jersey jumping out of a plane. The story sounded too made up to actually be real, so I wondered if he believed me at all.

“You’re insane. You couldn’t pay me to do that,” said Anton.

“A multi-million-dollar deal made it easier for me to jump…” I said with an air of confidence.

“I can’t believe she did it. Give that girl a raise,” he said dumbfounded.

“Me either. I did give her a cash bonus.”

“She must really want this job…”

“We will see.”

“Because jumping out of a plane isn’t enough…”

I laughed. “It is kind of crazy when you think about it.”