Page 98 of My Boss

“Because I like you and don’t want you to die prematurely.”

I’m choking on smoke. Christ, what a lecture. I cough it out as it scratches my throat.

“For now, I’m not going anywhere. And I might as easily die in a car accident, get colon cancer from eating processed foods, or get stabbed by a thief and bleed out in a dark alley.”

“You can be more careful when driving, limit your consumption of processed foods and avoid dark alleys.”

“What if I’m not the one driving?”

“You can ask the driver to drive more carefully.”

“Or to give me the keys and drive myself,” I suggest.

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” I inhale one last time, throw the cigarette butt in the snow, put it out with my shoe and extend an open hand toward Jan. “So give them to me.”

“What?” He looks at me, confused. He doesn’t get it.

“The keys.”

“What keys?”

“The ones you are holding.”

His eyebrows shoot up. He glances down at his hand that is holding the keys to the BMW. He has an absolutemindfuck. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He opens and closes it again. Finally, some gear clicks into place, and Jan lifts his head and throws me a hard stare —one of those for which I felt like murdering him at work.

“That’s not an option.” He turns around and walks to the car from the driver’s side. “Get in.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” He stops.

“I want to drive. You know, it’s about being careful while driving.” I wink at him.

“I am a careful driver.”

“I’m more careful. Wanna bet?”

“No. Get in.”

I cross my arms.

“You have two options: I drive or I stay here. Which do you choose?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” he replies through clenched teeth.

“You have ten seconds to decide. Two of which have already passed.”

“Maria. No. You will. Not. Drive. My. Car.” Each word is a slow hiss.

I look at him closely. The vein on his forehead pulsates.

“Do you think I can’t drive well and will scratch your car?”

“No,” he denies immediately. “I am sure you are a good driver.”

“So, what’s your point?” I squint my eyes, trying to make out from the expression on his face why he is so insistent on his point. And suddenly, I get an epiphany. “You are afraid of losing control.”

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