Page 14 of Designed for Disaster

“Uh…” She frowned. Nana Dee looked at her hopefully, and Natasha pulled out her tablet, showing us some simple sketches she’d put together after this meeting was set to brainstorm ideas for what would go well with the desk Nana Dee already had.

Damn it. They were gorgeous.

We wrapped up breakfast shortly after, with Nana Dee claiming she was tired, and I walked Natasha to the door.

“So, you can start on Monday.”

She stared at me in confusion. “Start what?”

“I’m offering you a job with Saunders Furniture.”

“Are you?” she said. “Sorta sounds like you’retellingme I have a job.”

“What’s the difference? We both know you need the work.”

She stepped onto the porch, turning to face me so I could get the full impact of her glare. “Again, thanks to you.”

“And now thanks to me, you are no longer unemployed.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Please don’t act like you have any better options.”

Natasha stiffened. “I can think of plenty of better options that do not involve working for you. If I want to make eighty thousand dollars with a side of bullshit, I’ll just go back to working three part-time jobs.” She turned for the steps, but I caught her arm.

“Okay. What do you want?”

She pulled away and crossed her arms, clearly annoyed with me. “From you? Nothing.”

“I mean it. Name your price.”

“Fine.” She smirked. “One hundred and fifty thousand starting salary.” She pursed her lips. “And a yearly bonus based on the performance of the new product line.”

That’s it? Those were her terms? “Done. I’ll have the contract drawn up by the time you arrive for work.”

She stared at me. “Wait…what?”

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘Thank you, boss.’ See you Monday.” I closed the door on her completely stunned expression. I really did like it best when I got the last word.

5

NATASHA

Monday had to be the worst of all the days to start a new job.

It was generally the worst day of the week, but on this particularly important Monday, I’d accidentally set my alarm for six p.m. instead of a.m., woke up a half hour later by the sheer grace of god, spilled coffee on my blouse as I ran to make the transfer from the subway to the Long Island Railroad to get to Saunders Furniture’s Long Island office, and forgotten to put my charging cable in my purse, which meant my phone would be dead by the afternoon.

I hated Mondays.

I hated starting new jobs.

I especially hated that I’d taken this job from the same man who’d gotten me fired. But how could I possibly turn downonejob that would pay me about three times what I’d been making from mymultitudeof part-time jobs? Stacy’s eyes had almost bugged out of her head when I’d told her that the Mr. Moneybags who’d wanted to buy furniture for his grandmotherwas actually Mr. Coffeezilla from the café, and he’d given me a job, but she agreed I’d made the only possible choice.

I glanced down at the map on my phone again, then stuffed it in the pocket of my dress pants as the office building came into view. The headquarters for Saunders Furniture was housed in a rectangular, six-story building with a frameless glass facade. A bundle of nerves exploded inside me as I made my way past a courtyard decorated with trimmed hedges, wooden benches, and an ornate fountain. I pressed my hand to my belly, willing the nerves to settle.

Keep it together. You just sold your soul to work for a grumpy, furniture-empire owning, Coffeezilla billionaire. No big deal.

I didn’t know why I was so nervous anyway. It’s not like I’d gotten this job under false pretenses. Trent and his grandmother had both looked at my designs and knew what I had to offer. They were the ones who wantedmefor the role. I hadn’t been looking for anything from them. But now that I had this job, I desperately didn’t want to lose it. Even if it meant working for that infuriating man.

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