Page 2 of #Bossholes

As I walk out of the shop, I hold my head high and swallow down my emotions. They couldn’t give two shits about my sexual history at work. I have a great job, working around a great group of lawyers, and I’m going to turn this day around.

I’m going to make this Monday my bitch, even if it kills me.

TWO

Kinsley

“Poor girl.She’s only been on the top floor for three days, and it already looks like her soul has withered away and died.” Brianna’s eyes dart around the lunchroom as she leans toward me, hanging her index fingers from her top lip like they’re fangs. “I’m pretty sure the three of them are emotional vampires.”

I barely suppress an eyeroll, but I do catch a glimpse of Margo, the Billing and Finance manager, as she walks by, nodding her head so hard she might give herself whiplash, and mouths,they really are.

Brianna hisses like she’s fucking Dracula himself. Margo laughs and hisses back before they both descend into giggles.

I’m wondering where the fuck I’m working, but a quick tally of all the custom-tailored power suits and gigantic egos confirms that I am indeed still at Ellis, Ellis, and Wallace. We’re not the largest family law firm in Nashville, but the percentage of guys with big dick energy exuding from their pores seems obscene.

And I bet with most of these guys, the only thing that’s impressive is their own hubris. Certainly not their downstairs captain. They’re probably below average. Unimpressive. Too short for this ride.

I raise a brow, my gaze trailing from Margo back to Brianna. “I don’t think that means what you think it does. And I feel like I should point out that vampires aren’t real.”

Despite Margo’s agreement to the contrary.

Brianna scoffs, unwrapping her sandwich with gusto, her pink pointed nails digging into what looks like a turkey sandwich as she takes a healthy bite. “Not literal vampires, Kins. Oh, but you’re right. They’re more like the Dementors in Harry Potter.”

“Oh? They float in the air and wear billowy capes?”

“Exactly.” She points a pickle spear at me. Rather aggressively, I might add, as I swipe some of its juice from my forehead. “And when they get close enough…” Brianna glances behind her before leaning my way again. “Bam. Your soul and entire personality will be gone. You’ll be a shell of your former self. A husk, if you will. If you don’t believe me, look at the new girl. She’s already crying into her bag of chips.”

“Fuck me,” I mutter to myself with a laugh. Sure as shit, the blonde she pointed out is quietly crying at a table by herself, shoving handfuls of chips in her mouth, one right after the other. I don’t judge; I can’t. I got dumped over my morning coffee by a man who compared me to a wooden board. At least I’m holding myself together. Barely, but still. “How did I ever get so lucky to get you as a desk mate?”

She shrugs, that pickle stabbing back at me. “You must have some good karma stashed somewhere. Seriously. The other open desk was with Ruth.”

We both shiver, glancing quickly at the person in question sitting alone at a small square table in the corner.

The woman is a dinosaur.

I’m pretty sure she started working with lawyers back when they wore white powdered wigs and drafted contracts on parchment. It wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t completely terrible.

“That woman wouldn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus and then run me over a few times for good measure.” I take out my pathetic salad, eyeballing the cookies at the front of the room. Their numbers are dwindling with every passing second, the chocolate chunks practically calling out to me.

I got dumped today, and I need—no, I deserve—chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

The guys in charge may have the personalities of a Dementor, but they sure aren’t stingy. The lunchroom is always stocked with snacks, drinks, and plenty of coffee. Normally, I’d stare at them longingly, but today I can’t resist.

I do plenty of yoga. I can always squeeze in an extra session this weekend if things get out of hand.

I’m across the room in seconds and since I’ve already decided on doing extra yoga, I snag two of the chocolate chunk cookies from the treat basket, but nearly drop them as a very masculine hand swoops in to grab the last one.

“Shit. Sorry. You scared me.” I clutch the cookies to my chest, trying to stifle my rapidly beating heart, then turn to face my fellow snack connoisseur and?—

Holy, fuck

This guy is hot. Like stupidly gorgeous.

I bet he delivers orgasms with a singular wink. Hell, I might be having one right now.

There’s a good chance I’ve spontaneously ovulated.Could I be pregnant?

This man could have any woman in this place. In fact, as he raises his brows at me, I’m ready to drop to my knees right next to his overpriced leather loafers.

---