Page 114 of My Boss

I’m not answering anymore; I feel offended; I don’t look at him; I keep staring at the screen.

After twenty minutes or so of watching the movie, Jan’s head falls inertly on my shoulder. I glance over at him and… Holy fuck, I don’t believe it, he’s asleep! I’m about to give him the wake-up call of the century. I wonder whether to move my arm violently or maybe stick my finger in his slightly parted mouth. However, the longer I glower at him, the more my anger and desire for revenge evaporate, replaced by tenderness. And that’s because the sleeping Jan looks so sweet and defenseless that I don’t have the heart to lash out at him.

Fine, let him sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll claim my two hours from his day.

I’m awakened by the most delicious smell. I open my eyes. The light is bright. The sun’s rays are streaming in through the large windows, and the glare reflecting off the snow. I’m lying on the couch, covered with a blanket. Emotionally, I’m great; physically, I’m a mess. I feel as if a steamroller ran over me. Everything hurts.

I lift my head at the clattering of plates. Jan, in an undershirt and sweatpants, his feet bare, is bustling around in the kitchen. A pleasant sight, I must say. I try to sit and a pain in my neck pierces me.

“Jesus, your couch is not fit for sleeping on. I can’t move.”

“Perhaps that is why it is called a couch and not a bed. I also woke up all stiff, but morning exercises helped. Especially the bends. You should give it a try.”

“I’d love to, but how about you kneel in front of me this time?” I smile playfully.

“Should I kneel?” Jan frowns.

Oh God, he didn’t get it again.

“You said you woke up stiff.” I lower my gaze suggestively to his crotch.

“I was by no means referring to the state of erotic arousal, but to the muscular stiffness caused by sleeping on uneven bedding.”

“Yes, Jan, I guessed. It was supposed to be a play on words, you know, the kind of flirting between a man and a woman who feel sexually attracted to each other.”

“I understand. In that case, I want you to know that the sight of you in the morning was highly stimulating. However, I decided that we wouldn’t be comfortable on the couch and came to the conclusion that I would postpone having sex together until after breakfast. As a result, I was able to carry out my morning plan.”

“Congratulations. And how are you planning to spend your day today? Before you answer, subtract two hours from yesterday evening and leave them at my disposal. You fell asleep and I failed to implement what I wanted.”

And perhaps it was a good thing. Maybe this will allow us to spend at least two hours together because it seems that Jan will not surprise me with anything interesting.

But I’m wrong.

“At eleven o’clock, I planned to go to the slope, and now I invite you to breakfast. I made scrambled eggs. Five stars out of five.”

“Wait, on the slope? Are we going to ski?” My pulse is speeding up. On the one hand, I am positively surprised by Jan’s proposal and excited that we’ll enjoy the charms of the snowy mountains together, but on the other hand—I feel apprehensive, and my stomach tightens into a ball. Because I’ve never, gosh, darn it, skied! My experience in the art of schussing down the slope is limited to sledding in the city park when I was ten years old.

I must have gone pale because Jan is looking at me intently.

“Only if you know how,” he clarifies. “I’m not fit to be a teacher, and I don’t want to spend a day on the beginner slope. So if you are not an advanced skier, I suggest you stay home. I’ll show you what I’m currently working on. A 1943 pocketOMEGA, reliable Swiss mechanism, the watch case is in very good condition but the minute hand needs repair…”

“Of course, I can ski!” I interrupt him in mid-sentence.

I’d rather slide down a few times on my ass in the snow rather than sit at home and chisel a WWII-era watch. The weather is beautiful, and one has to take advantage of the winter. In addition, I don’t want to come off as an idiot who can’t slide on two boards attached to her feet. Jan, after all, considers me a genius. I’m smart and a fast learner. I’m sure I’ll catch on in no time.

“So. Now we eat, at ten-thirty we have sex, and at eleven we move on?”

An expression of satisfaction appears on Jan’s face.

“The perfect plan.”

*

Renting a suit and skis—check. Lift ride—check. Readiness for the descent—zero. It’s a miracle that I managed to jump off the chair and stay upright. I owe this miracle to the sharpness of my mind and quick learning: on the way to the slope, I looked up tips for beginner skiers on the Internet and had a quick glance, and during the warm-up, I watched other skiers closely. All this skiing seems as easy as adding in the range of a million.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to fall over.” Jan positions himself sideways for the descent at the top of the hill, and I follow suit. I do it grotesquely.

“It’s from sleeping on the couch. I’m still sore.”

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