Page 124 of My Boss

“I am exactly thirty-eight years, nine months and twenty-one…”

“Enough is enough. You’re pissing me off, Engler. I’m not going to waste my vacation time languishing in your house, and that’s clearly your plan. If you change your mind about how to spend time together, let me know. You have my number, and you know where I live.” I get up. I’m boiling inside.

“Are you angry?” He asks in such a tone as if it weren’t obvious from my behavior.

Grrrr.

“No, whatever gave you this idea?” I laugh nervously. “I’m more cheerful than ever. And I’ll go dancing. And don’t stop me if you’re not going to dance with me.” I turn around, walk out, and slam the door behind me so hard that I hear the distinctive chiming of the pendulum clock hanging on the wall in the study.

And that would be it for my Christmas romance.

All I want for Christmas is, holy shit,not you!

*

Fucking Jan doesn’t even poke his nose out of his hideout when I pack up or when I leave his house.

I’m so mad at him that on the way to my place, I force the poor Uber driver to stop every half hour, so I can smoke and calm down. But cigarettes don’t help me, and neither does candy. Also, as if it weren’t enough, I inadvertently stained the upholstery with the chocolate I bought at the gas station, and I feel stupid. In fact, I purchased and ate two Milka chocolates, the big ones, and devoured them one after another. The first was with nuts, and the second with a toffee filling. Instead of feeling better, I feel sick, and so much so that as soon as I enter the apartment, I run to the bathroom and vomit. And then I start blubbering like a child.

As a result, I’m down for two consecutive days. And I sleep, and I cry, and I smoke, and I eat and sleep again. I sleep a lot.

The phone has been silent for two days, which means Jan doesn›t give a damn about me. Fine, whatever. I don›t give a damn about him, either. Insensitive lout! I need to get over myself, get back to my normal life, and forget about him.

I’ll clean the apartment, go shopping, maybe find myself a nice dress for New Year’s Eve, but first, I’ll do laundry.

I take a shower, throw the dirty clothes into the washing machine, pour the liquid and set the program. The sound of the phone from the kitchen startles me. My heart starts beating fast, my stomach clenches. My first thought: it’s Jan calling. I run to answer, grab the receiver… and let out a stifled groan of disappointment.

“Hi, Toska.” I sit down resignedly on a chair. The adrenaline subsides.

“Oh, am I calling at a bad time? Have I interrupted your amours?”

“My ass-mours. I’m at home, alone, doing the laundry.”

“What do you mean, what happened?”

“It all went to shit.”

“All means what?”

“Me and him. We are totally different; nothing unites us except sex.”

“Did it really get that bad?”

“I can’t figure him out, although I really tried. He is so emotionally distant and antisocial that it scares me. He’s been preparing himself for a year to hit on me. He secretly bought up all the furniture that I put up for sale. Evidently, he wanted to be with me.” I rub my forehead with my hand. “It doesn’t make sense. I don’t think I can be with someone who is so uptight, who can’t relax, let loose, be spontaneous, who has to have everything planned down to the very last detail. In addition, he is a total nut about watchmaking. A day without tinkering with a watch is a day lost. On the other hand, I am impressed with how much he knows about stuff, is damn intelligent, well-mannered, and stable, and that you can rely on him. He is resolute and excellent in business, but he shies away from people and doesn’t want to go anywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were having dinner at a restaurant. Jan had set a condition that the place should be quiet and peaceful. So, we found a secluded place, it was nice, we had a good conversation, we had a meal, but when a crowd showed up unexpectedly, and it got loud, he got all tense and just ran away from there. He totally shut me out, didn’t want to talk to me, and when we got home, he immediately went to bed, and it was the middle of the day. And later, we argued because he adamantly refused to go toNew Year’s Eve with us. And he stated that we would sit at home the whole time.”

“Hm. That’s indeed strange.”

“And do you know what else is strange? He does not recognize irony at all, does not understand jokes, and sometimes even simple metaphors. He takes everything seriously and literally. Except in bed… Gosh, I have the feeling that he pulls out all the stops only during sex. It never felt so good with anyone. We are perfectly matched in this respect. But it’s just the physicality, the sex drive. Because when I want to cuddle up to him unexpectedly, he pulls away violently, as if I’m a stranger.” I feel a stitch between my ribs, take a deep breath, then continue to pour out all my grievances and observations about Jan: “And he’s damn near clueless. If I don’t tell him directly what I expect from him, I don’t get a reaction. Oh, and did you know that he organizes the food in the refrigerator for all the days of the week? And he doesn’t like eating foods that are mixed. Everything has to be separate! Although I did manage to persuade him to eat my apple pie.” I recall that moment and it makes me pleasantly warm. “It was a fantastic evening,” I admit. “Well, if you don’t count the fact that my favorite movie was a total flop.” More images from the moments we spent together fly before my eyes and automatically bring a smile to my face. “You know, he can make me laugh like no man before him. It’s a completely different kind of amusement because Jan does it completely unconsciously. Sometimes he is so sweet at the same time… Well, and with him, I feel important, smart, feminine, and beautiful.” I sigh. “God, I have no idea what to do with him. It seems to be beyond me. We are not a good match. Being with him is arollercoaster. I don’t know what to expect from him. What do you think about all this?”

The handset falls silent for several seconds.

“You know, Maria,” Toska says in that subdued, warm voice that I love so much. “It seems that he is just like that. Maybe it’s a matter of personality, temperament, his experiences with his ex-wife.” She hesitates. “Or maybe he is AS.”

“Ace? He’s certainly ace at driving me insane?”

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