Page 2 of My Boss

*

When I cross the threshold of the social room, my gaze is immediately drawn to the coffee machine, where two girls are standing. I recognize them by sight; they have desks at the other end of the open space.

“Oh, hi, it’s your first day, right?” A short brunette with a round face presses a button on the machine. “I’m Agata. I’ve been under the rule of Stiff Jan for half a year.”

“Who?” I raise my eyebrows, at which the girls snort, laughing.

“Engler,” explains the other, also brunette, but slightly older, taller and slimmer. “I’m Olga. I’ve been working here for three years.”

She extends her hand to me.

“Maria,” I reply with a handshake. “Three years is quite a while.”

“Long enough to get used to. Congratulations on your position. You will now be the boss’s second-in-command. You must be really good since he chose you.”

“He chose the results of my test, not me. And somehow, I don’t seem to be his right hand. He doesn’t speak to me at all, just clogs up my inbox with e-mails every half hour.”

The girls glance at each other.

“Jan is peculiar; you will get used to it,” states Olga. “Previously, your position was taken by Jerzy. He was damn good, the boss relied on him a lot.”

“Then why is he no longer there?”

“He had a heart attack. He is now on disability.”

A heart attack? Well, it’s getting better and better. So now I wonder how long I’ll last here since my predecessor ended up on disability.

“He was well into his fifties and had been in treatment for a long time. Some atrial fibrillation or something,” reassures Olga. “Jan may be demanding, antisocial, and difficult to talk to, but at least he is easy on the eyes. Such a sight at work is pure pleasure.” She takes a sip of coffee, smirking slightly.

“Oh yes, it’s like a steamy wet dream,” Agata echoes her.

Pardon me, what? Okay, the guy may be handsome, but he doesn’t have an ounce of sex appeal. At first glance, you can see that he’s a passionless drone. I can bet my life—that sex with him is as passionate as watching the TV seriesFather Matthew, and the only subject who derives any pleasure from physical intercourse with Jan is the ugly pole hidden in his pants.

However, I’m not going to share my thoughts with my newly met coworkers. I don’t know them, I don’t know if they are checking me out by any chance. I’m not going to gossip about my supervisor on the very first day.

“Is there a chance that this e-mail bombardment will finally calm down?” —changing the subject.

“You’ll get used to it.” This sounds vague. “You have to look at the positives: good salary, benefits, benefits, good salary. Did I mention a good salary and benefits?”

“They must be damn good if you say so,” I conclude.

“Gym passes, pool passes, medical care, discretionary bonuses, team-building trips, subsidized lunches, low-interest loans, furloughs, layettes for newborns, vouchers, and Christmas packages for kids… Do you have kids?” Olga’s gaze focuses on my hand.

“Nope, still single.”

“Then take advantage of it while you can. After giving birth, I finally stopped feeling tired when the little one turned five. Take my word for it, taking care of a child is a completely different kind of fatigue: more tedious and infuriating. For the past two years, I had some peace and quiet until my son went to school, and I went along with him, as it were. His homework would drive me to neurosis.” She sighs heavily. “Okay, time to get back to work. Can you handle the coffee machine?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“If you need anything, let me know.”

“Actually… Where is the smoking room?”

The girls exchange glances.

“Didn’t you read the regulations?” asks Agata.

“Er… I did. But I was under stress. You know, signing a contract, paperwork… I must have missed something. Should I have been aware of something?”