Page 82 of My Boss

“You know very well what I mean. What is my furniture doing here?”

“Your furniture?” His eyebrows raise.

“Mine, of course. The armchair, the dresser, the footstool, the lamp, even the damn vanity table! I sought them out myself, acquired, repaired, sanded and painted them. With my bare hands.” I spread my hands. I see them trembling.

“I agree about finding, acquiring, repairing, sanding and painting. But that does not change the fact that the furniture does not belong to you. These pieces stopped being yours the moment I bought them. From you.” He looks straight in my eyes. He is composed and balanced.

God, I don’t believe it. It’s beyond absurd.

Bravo, Maria, it seems that your boss, whom you were screwing in the office a few hours ago, is not only your immediate superior who can fire you from your job, but also the only client with whom you linked your business future. Was it really so hard to figure out that TS is your boss?

My knees buckle; I feel weak. I have to sit down.

I cross to the wing armchair, slump into it and put my hands in my hair.

“Why did you do that?” I ask because I really don’t have the faintest idea what to think about it.

“Did I do what?” he shoots at me with that emotionless voice of his, as if he really doesn’t know what I mean.

“Shit! Why the hell did you buy all my furniture if you don’t need it?” I look directly at him.

“What makes you think I don’t need it?”

“Because your apartment looks like it’s been taken out of a catalog printed in shades of gray! They do not fit here. Not your style, not your color scheme. Why did you do it?”

“Two reasons.”

“Which are?”

“Firstly, I wanted to invest some cash in something, and your furniture seemed appropriate for that. Secondly, having seen your business plan, I thought it was quite good, and you could use some motivation to implement it.”

I open my eyes wide.

“You saw my business plan? When?”

“At your apartment while you were putting on your Kashubian folk costume.”

What is he talking about?

I search through the drawer of memories and come across the day Jan came to my building with his brilliant idea of a business trip on Saturday.

“You were snooping around on my computer?”

“You left an Excel file open and your website. I reviewed the file with calculations as you ran out of the apartment. I think you have a good chance of staying afloat, provided that with the assumed costs, the revenue is at least four thousand gross.”

I look at him and feel a pleasant warmth spread around my stomach.

“Do you really think my business plan is good?”

“Yes. Your products are of good quality and are original. Compared to your competitors, you stand out with attractive prices. I would suggest a more extensive promotion of your services. An ad on a free portal and a website are not enough.”

“You need cash for promotion. Besides, I need something to promote, and right now, I can refinish no more than one piece of furniture a month. That’s not enough to generate the revenue you are referring to.”

“So increase production.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

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