Page 28 of My Boss

Silence. We glance at each other. Jesus, how much I would give to see Jan’s face now. What’s more, I’m dying to know what he’ll answer.

“Hello, are you there?” Artur asks, and the thought flashes through my mind for a moment that my boss has hung up.

“I am.” The low timbre of Jan’s voice resounds, in which, as usual, I can’t read any emotion.

“You’re not saying anything.”

“I’m thinking.”

He’s thinking? Gosh, was I that wrong about his sexual orientation? If so, my gaydar is indeed totally off. But apparently, it’s not just mine, since half the female staff at the company drool at the sight of Jan. Meanwhile, he prefers dicks to chicks. Holy shit.

“And what are you thinking?” insists Artur, and I prick my ears, waiting for an answer.

A familiar murmur echoes through the earpiece, followed by words spoken in a slow and balanced tone, “I think you should tell Maria to show up at work on Monday at seven in the morning. With a box for her things. Good night.”

The connection dropped.

I sit paralyzed. I feel as if someone slapped me in the face with a wet rag.

Well, you really fucked up this time. Bravo, Maria, you craved puppyish foolishness and you got it. Now you’ll get sacked for sure.

*

It’s not awesome, but it’s not tragic, either. And that’s thanks to Artur and Nina, who set their sights on making me feel better for the rest of the evening and dragged me to the club to dance. AfterToska went home (first taking a nap sitting down at a hundred and twenty decibels), the party got into full swing.

“Fuck the corporation. I’ve been saying all along that it’s not for you.” Artur tops off my juice with the cold vodka he just bought at the bar. “It was already clear from the job advert itself that they are pricks. It sounded like, ‘We are a super awesome corporation, we are looking for a thirty-year old naïve woman with forty years of experience, who likes to dine at the computer, work thirteen hours a day, and read two hundred e-mails a day as a hobby.’ You’ll find another job, Maria.”

“I know I’ll find one, but not as well paid.” I take a sip. “Although, honestly, I think I’d rather dig ditches than be an ass-kisser for my superiors’ corporate asses.”

“I would argue with your reasoning. I could do that kind of work for your boss. Of course, if I were unemployed.” Artur winks at me.

I burst out laughing. Dirty mouth.

“Maria, don’t be afraid. Every cloud has a silver lining,” says a tipsy Nina. “You wanted to change departments anyway, so you can change your job too. The head physician is preparing raises. I’ll lend you money to start up the workshop.”

“You know I don’t like to borrow money. Toska already offered it to me. Her Radoslaw is making a fortune in real estate development.”

“I know, but it’s just abackup plan. I’m sure you’ll quickly find some cool job in finance. After all, you are a mathematical genius, a diva of numbers.”

I snort. “These days, even the most outstanding algebraic mind is reduced to one thing: Excel sheets. If you want to use a title talking to me, call me Excel-lency. And let’s stop discussing work, okay?”

“Great. I’ll just have a drink, and we can go dance.” Nina takes a sip of her purple drink, and I twist my mouth in disgust.

“Is something wrong?” My friend glances at me from above a fancy-looking glass.

“What are you actually drinking? It looks like methylated alcohol.”

“This, my dear, is aFabulous Dream. Silver tequila, Blue Curaçao liqueur, Monin Grenadine syrup, plus lemon and orange juice. Yummy. Would you like to try it?” She pushes the drink toward me.

I look doubtfully at the purple liquid, which I associate with a glass bottle and a dark blue label with a skeleton and the word ‘poison’! I remember my father once invited his old buddy from his previous job to join us. He told us that during the communist era, due to lack of money for vodka, he would add methylated alcohol and honey to brewed tea, let it stand for twenty-four hours, then add powdered orangeade and he had ready-made alcohol. The guy is still alive today, in great shape, and what’s more—he has a thriving business of his own and a lot of cash in hand.

“OK, let me try.” I pick up the goblet, take a sip and feel the pleasantly sweet and sour taste of tequila and orange on my tongue. “Hah, it’s actually good.” I wet my lips again.

Nina grins broadly. Her eyes are glazed, and her face and neckline are flushed red. I know this look: she will suffer tomorrow.

“It’s yours. To improve the mood.” She gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Drink up and let’s go dance, and then we’ll order another one each.”

Of course, it doesn’t end with one drink, and contrary to what its name might indicate, I don’t feel sleepy after it at all. Quite the opposite. I’m bursting with energy. I’m about to fly off into space. And it’s awesome because I’ve never been there before. I bounce and strut on the dance floor with Nina and Artur until they each tango with a newly met guy, and a strangerjoins me. He dances right behind me, so close that I can feel the heat radiating from him. He smells sexy, which makes a pleasant tingling sensation spread through my body. Finally, he puts his hand on my waist and whispers in a sensual voice in my ear, “Wanna get out of here?” I’m overwhelmed by an ovulatory urge. My nipples momentarily stand at attention. My pulse accelerates.

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